#I really hate seeing this sentiment floating around and its so common like

[kurakurakura99]

" I don't know that seems like alot of reading" are you fucking kidding me this is the poring over rulebooks and lore hobby. Maybe TTRPGs aren't for you

[zeta-in-de-walls]

What's the most common misconception you hear about c!tommy?

Hey! Really interesting question, cheers. I’d say that there’s quite a few misconceptions floating around: that he never apologises, that he hasn’t developed, that his exile was his fault, that he’s the main source of conflict on the server, that all he does is steal, and plenty of other stuff.

But the one I probably hear most is how Tommy supposedly values music discs over people.

This one is such a mess of misconceptions. I’ve even heard it said that Doomsday happened because Tommy cared about his discs too much and he was wrong because you shouldn’t value items over human lives. I hate this one because it misunderstands Tommy enough so you can dismiss him because its such a weak position. 

Anyway, I understand why its so messy. Tommy throughout season 2 is frequently in a state of uncertainty and is being driven by emotions and isn’t thinking clearly after so much suffering. He says a lot of stuff he doesn’t mean and is very suggestible. Most of his talking about the discs is done when he’s lonely and thinks his friends don’t care for him anymore, that they’re better off without him.

Now, let’s be clear: music discs are something Tommy’s character loves. His happiness every time he listens to one feels very genuine. He’s had so many emotional moments listening to his discs with others and even considers his bench his happy space. He likes them and invites others to listen with him. These items hold no intrinsic value, they’re of no worth to anyone else besides how much they mean to Tommy. The only reason to take them is to try to control him specifically. That’s the original reason Dream took them in the original disc war - to punish Tommy after he caused some trouble. 

And the original disc war was fun for Tommy. He found the battle to be exciting and enjoyed trying to outplay Dream with his best friend Tubbo and anyone he could get on his side. It was like a fun game to him. One that, while chaotic, no one really got hurt from at all - the only one who really suffered was Tommy himself, who put stuff on the line for it and had his whole base dug up. (And Tubbo who got dragged in and lost items, but he was initially a very willing partner who found the conflict fun too.) 

And then we have Dream, who traded away L’Manburg’s independence for Tommy’s discs, an interesting decision which meant only Tommy really paid the price that day. Everyone remarked on how unusually selfless it was of Tommy. That day was a victory for everyone else, but bittersweet for him. Wilbur consoled him, saying they could get them back and then they’d have even more history and sentimental value attached to them, having been what paid for L’Manburg’s freedom. Tommy was encouraged and so the game continued.

Dream over this time became not just Tommy’s enemy, but his friend. They had fights and conflicts but it was more like a fun game. As they also did stuff like make a church together. Eventually Tommy managed to steal Mellohi back from Dream while Skeppy acquired Cat. At the elections, Tommy gives Mellohi to Wilbur who gives it back again when they’re banished. Months pass and they finally win back L’Manberg and its a wonderful day (until it goes wrong) but Tommy’s not done with his disc war. 

This disc war was always a personal thing for Tommy, he’s never wanted others to be dragged in and hurt by it. He kind of takes Tubbo for granted, but Tubbo’s also always been his partner in crime and Tommy enjoys having a war he can fight alongside his best friend - he and Tubbo against Dream. Dream at this point is still seen as a friendly enemy, in spite of choosing Schlatt and helping Wilbur blow up L’Manberg. Anyway, he rejects Presidency, giving it to Wilbur because he trusts him and also wants to focus on his personal battles after so long ignoring it. He doesn’t want others to be dragged in or for his interests to be divided. He’s leaving L’Manburg in safe hands he can trust. That’s season 1 of the SMP, but season 2 is where things get messier.

After the war, Tommy hears that Tubbo had been suspicious that Tommy might’ve been the traitor. In order to show that he trusts him, Tommy gives Tubbo Mellohi. It’s not just a disc now, its a sign of trust, a sign of their bond - at least in Tommy’s eyes.

Then Dream builds obsidian walls around L’Manburg and we first see Tommy showing that bit of selfishness. He states that he’d wanted to step away, that L’Manburg wasn’t his priority anymore. That he’d left it in safe hands so he could focus on the discs. But it doesn’t matter what Tommy intended. Dream is targeting him and is dragging the rest of L’Manburg into it by threatening to seal them in obsidian forever if they don’t comply. Tommy and Tubbo do have a disagreement here, but its not actually so much about the discs. 

-Tommy believes that fighting Dream is the superior option, if they ask for help from others in the server - because what he’s doing isn’t right - then they could defeat him, show him that he couldn’t just push them around. 

-Tubbo feels like that would get them killed and he doesn’t want to risk their lives. It would be better to appease Dream for now and secretly plot how to take him down later but Tommy’s being too hotheaded. 

Tommy brings up the disc to state how he trusts Tubbo and would consider being exiled a betrayal but Tubbo reminds him that they’re just discs and there’s more on the line and Tommy needs to be more cooperative. Anyway, Tommy’s hurt by Tubbo exiling him and think its a sign that he doesn’t care about him anymore. Tubbo meanwhile found it difficult to do but felt like there was no other option but did still care about Tommy. Tubbo would later come to regret doing it while Tommy would later say that it was the right choice when they finally actually talk. 

The discs here are kind of a symbol but Tommy doesn’t really value them over others, he’s being a little selfish for sure but that is mostly a result of being treated unfairly by Dream and feeling attacked and ganged up on by his friends, not seeing how they were trying to help him. Dream’s the one to blame here. At worst, Tommy’s being irresponsible in thinking he can just step away from L’Manburg - he didn’t value the discs over it, he just wanted to fight a personal battle without L’Manburg being involved for once. But too many things do matter to him and Dream realised he could attack Tommy through his friends. Its also why Tommy says he didn’t want Tubbo to be President, because he wanted him to be free to help him in his personal war too. There were some issues in their friendship that for sure got exploited and blown out of proportion.

So post-exile. Tommy is rather confused. He’s decided he doesn’t want to die and that Dream wasn’t really his friend, but he still feels abandoned by all his other friends. He still believes they didn’t really care about him after his failed beach party and everything else. And his feelings on Dream are mixed because he knows logically he should hate him but emotionally he still feels like he’s his friend.

Tommy at this point, begins clinging to the discs as some sort of tangible goal while feeling so lonely and abandoned. He has no real sense of agency and really wants Technoblade to give him guidance. Technoblade however wants to destroy L’Manburg and reaffirms his thoughts that Tubbo doesnt really care about him. Tommy is still...kinda(?) clear that he doesn’t want L’Manburg to be destroyed but is willing to compromise on minor terrorism. His remaining belief in L’Manburg is being eroded. You can see in his trips into L’Manburg he is rather unaware of the extent of his actions. He’s suffered and now feels right in lashing out. It seems to be the start of a villain arc even. Right at this point, the discs make more sense than people so they are his goal. And yet even in the midst of his uncertainty, he says the one Tubbo has is safe, he wants to get the one Dream has. 

The discs are Tommy’s way of saying he wants to fight Dream. It’s not really about the discs anymore, Dream went way too far with the exile and now Tommy wants to stop him and find it easiest to frame it as going after his music disc.

Then the festival. Tommy finally confronts Tubbo and sees him about to give his disc to Dream. It’s his worst fears confirmed, that Tubbo doesn’t really care about him and that he’s on Dream’s side. They fight and Tommy finally says the line ‘the discs were worth more than you ever were!’

And he regrets it immediately. The statement rang false. They were just discs and Tubbo was his best friend. He immediately tells Tubbo to give up the disc and changes sides then and there. The discs were not more important than people. He was being selfish. And he also remembered how much he cared about L’Manburg and didn’t want it to be blown up no matter what he’d agreed to the day before. He wants to fight for it, choosing his friends once and for all. 

In his argument with Techno on Doomsday, he does bring up his discs and words it kind of awkwardly. He tries to explain that ‘nothing had been taken from you, while the discs were stolen from me’ Tommy believes that Techno is destroying something people loved when he could’ve just walked away, he wasn’t fighting for something he loved like Tommy in his wars. That’s what he’s trying to get at, not that music discs are more important than people. Tommy doesn’t actually believe that and prefers wars that don’t hurt others, as the disc wars was once supposed to be before Dream brought in everyone else. Even saying that, Tommy admits he’d messed up so many times in chasing the discs. That he was wrong.

Tommy talks about going after the discs again but at this point it really means taking down Dream. Dream had expressed that he would not stop, he enjoyed their ‘game’ too much. Tommy has nothing left to lose as far as he’s concerned and needs to take down Dream for everything he’d done. 

During the disc saga finale, again Tommy always chooses Tubbo first. There’s this one moment where he has Mellohi and could run away forever but he stops and gives it up along with all their items before their taken to the vault and almost forced to watch Tubbo die while he gets thrown in prison forever. But he chooses Tubbo. He always does. 

Okay, summary over. I hope that better explains why I dislike the misconception that Tommy chooses his discs over people. He doesn’t really. It’s used to discredit him way too much, I feel. It’s only at his lowest, after being tormented in exile that he even gets close to that position and that’s when he’s on the bring of choosing a dark path and becoming what he hates. At the festival, he rejects that path.

Now that he has his discs, he hasn’t started trouble with them once. They’re safe and he can bring them out to listen to when he’s feeling low, not hurting anyone. They’re just something he loves and its okay to have attachments. 

[salenakingston]

Mystery March Day 18 - Flower

Where was she now? Could she even define herself as simply ‘she’ anymore? The body was gone, taken away at the hands of that blue-haired girl. It was the same one from ancient times, and yet, at the same time not. It was impossible for it to truly be the same person. A reincarnation perhaps? Well what good does that do now? Laying who knows how far away as nothing more than a beating heart in the shape of a fruit.

Sight was meaningless, but noises could still be heard. There was enough awareness for that at least.

One thing was certain, this area was not the same one as before. Where the sound of battle once rang out, there was calm. The sound of insects chirping, and birds too. There was the feeling of heat beating down from the sky, though not as intense as it might have been against a black road. There was a subtle noise, that of wind floating by. At least this place seemed more like the old forest.

“How much longer are we going to keep looking?”

What was that? A voice? Out here?

“As long as it takes.”

Wait, that voice was recognizable. Was it her again?

“Vivi, this is stupid. You said when you hit it, it went flying. Who knows how far it actually went.”

Hit it? Oh right, she batted the heart right out of the body. Wait, but that would imply this was what she was looking for. Why? To get rid of it for good?

“I know it’s stupid, but this is important. Can’t you work with me instead of arguing? If Arthur’s making an effort then we should too.”

Who was Arthur? In fact, who was she even talking to?

“I know that Vivi. It’s just complicated on my end. I assure you I am actually trying. You try getting ‘buddy buddy’ with someone you’ve spent so long hating.”

While interesting to hear, what did any of this have to do with their search? If anything, the bickering was just starting to get annoying. Even more so as the voices seemed to be growing louder. They must have been getting closer to this resting place.

“Alright alright. Look let’s at least look a little longer. If we don’t find it then we’ll go back. Maybe the three of us can look more tomorrow.”

“Yeah, ok.”

It didn’t make any sense. After the fury she showed when the kitsune was harmed, why go through the trouble of finding the object she was keen to remove at that moment?

“Hey Vivi, what did it look like again?”

“It was shaped like a heart, see through, and it had a glowing, red light in the middle. Why?”

“I think I found it.”

It was being lifted, but into the hands of something strange. It was terribly inconvenient to only be able to go off every sense besides sight. Footsteps could be heard against the earth, so ‘Vivi’ must have been catching up to whomever spoke.

“Yeah, that’s it. Let’s go back home.”

Well, there wasn’t much choice in the matter, as if there even was one to begin with. Wherever they were going, this was going with them.

A rush of chill washed over all of them, one set of footsteps echoing off the wood floor. One? But there were two voices before. Curse this miserable state. The girl’s voice came back again, “Oh, Arthur and Mystery aren’t here?”

Mystery. Right, the name the kitsune accepted from his new master. If the body was still functionable, this would be worthy of an eyeroll. Beside that, why bring this back to him? He seemed content fighting back as well.

“Actually, maybe this is a good thing, we can surprise him.”

That was her again. Surprise him? This ‘Arthur’ or the kitsune?

“I guess so. What do we do with it then? Just give it to him?”

“No, of course not. So, I don’t know how correct this is, but the little tree that was on top of her head looked a lot like a bonsai tree. If we can get a pot, probably one a little deeper to fit the whole thing, I bet we could make it grow.”

Stunned silence.

“That’s a pretty big stretch. What if it doesn’t work?”

“Don’t be such a downer Lewis. I have a good feeling it will.”

“If you say so.”

There were a lot of different feelings going on now. The earth was familiar, though it was all around now rather than just underneath. There was something wet being added, probably water. Well, credit where it was somewhat due, at least this girl seemed to know some basic care. There was the sound of a door opening, the other two mentioned having come back. Oh, there was that feeling of being lifted again.

“Mystery, we got you a surprise.”

Wait, they spent all this time looking to be given back to him?

“Vivi, it’s a pot of dirt.”

“Give it time. You’ll see what it is.”

Why not just tell him outright? Why drag it out? These were some strange mortals the kitsune decided to serve.

----

How much time had passed now? It was a bit hard to tell. Well, one upside to this whole thing was sight came back. From the beating heart, a blue sprout had grown through the dirt. With care from the girl, Vivi, and the ghost from the empty plot and locket, Lewis, that sprout had grown into a small tree. Most of the time, it was the two of them handling the care of the tiny tree, if only to keep up appearances. When no one else was around, the kitsune had taken on a more human like form to do the care himself. The body had grown again, and so too ‘she’ came back.

It was just annoying she couldn’t move like she used to.

Still it was nice to see again.

That blonde one with the shiny arm had come over today, Arthur. His name had come up, but there was no way for her to put a face to that name before now. He’d joined the kitsune, looking over the blue tree with white leaves. There were buds forming along some of the branches, and soon enough would have pink flowers blossoming like before. The ‘dog’ had glanced over at him when he heard the blonde’s voice, “Hey Mystery.”

“Vivi bug you into coming over?”

“When doesn’t she? You know how she is.”

Two sets of eyes feel on her body, “It’s growing really well.”

“Yes. So she is.”

“Right, she. I’m sorry.”

Strange to make such a point about that correction. She was alive, but not really… ‘alive.’ The same body as before had been burnt away, leaving this much more natural state for her.

“She was important to you, wasn’t she?”

“As important then as she is now.”

If she could snort she would. How was she meant to believe that sentiment?

“My life has become full of regrets Arthur, so much it amazes me how the three of you stick around. And so she too has become part of my regret. Not for creating her, but that when caught between two people I cared about, I turned my back on her. I don’t regret my choice, but I regret what that’s done to her.”

“Regret is something we both have in common.”

Man and dog looked at one another before the blonde turned those understanding eyes on her, “I’m no expert with plants. Will you show me how to take care of it while I wait for Vivi?”

“Sure.”

Despite the one strange arm he had, his care was just as gentle as the other three. These humans were strange. Two humans and a ghost? Logistics. Unimportant. What mattered was them showing care for something that didn’t have anything to do with them. All for what? For a mutt that lied to all of them? It was very strange.

When night fell, her very being reached deep inside her. This wasn’t the first time these three came to her. When the blue locket had been picked up, each one in the form of a flower bloomed on her hand, only for her to strike them down before the lotus she’d been desiring shined. The others were forgotten about.

Each one of them was very specific.

A blue orchid with hints of magenta along its stamen.

A purple rose with a yellow center, it’s stem covered in thorns.

An orange sunflower that almost looks wilted.

When Mystery woke up the next morning, there were three tiny flowers curled around the base of the tree. There was no lotus bloom. Not yet. She was not ready to forgive him just yet. There was some comfort to this new addition she created.

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- THE DEATH EATERS

Sirius had lived through a lot of crap in his life, some real life shattering moments, but the act of forcing himself to read about the return of Voldemort, when he technically hadn't even fallen yet so they'd never even been allowed to live in that lifespan of peace like Harry had, really was doing something to his psyche as he got started.

Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining himself. His hands were like large, pale spiders.

Harry almost longed for Sirius or someone trying to crack a joke during all of this, it would make what he was hearing feel even slightly better, his first thought that someone could have made a mention of how Ron would hate Voldemort just for that fact alone, but humor was going to be hard to come by until Harry was out of this danger.

All his other features were as inhuman as well, pale and more serpent like than ever. He took no notice of Wormtail continuing to sob at his feet, still bleeding from his stump.

'As much as he deserves, he's got a fate worse than Quirrell's coming up,' Remus viciously thought to himself.

The large snake from Harry's dreams wasn't given much notice either as it continued slithering across the ground.

Voldemort put one of those unnatural hands into his pocket and came back with a wand, which he caressed with his new fingers.

Lily gathered from that act that this must indeed be Voldemort's own wand, the one with the phoenix core he shared with Harry's. It took a moment for Lily to even push past her disgust at all the cruel things that wand had done to her, James, and what felt like everyone she ever loved, to even try to guess where it had even come from, until she remembered who'd been tending to Voldemort this whole time. Lily couldn't help but wonder for the first time if that rat had possibly made an appearance at their house that fateful Halloween night as well, if he'd come across the body of Voldemort and taken possession of his wand for safe keeping, or perhaps even a level of power, and then hid it away before he went underground as Scabbers. It didn't even seem that far fetched, as he hadn't a wand on him that night he'd been confronted by Sirius and Remus, so he'd held this one as a backup all these years. At the same time as she realized that though, it also meant he would have had to cross James's body, and she hoped in the blackest way possible that had hurt him. To see what he'd cost in deceiving a man who still didn't want to believe the worst in him after everything.

    The first act he performed was to point it at Wormtail, who sailed back into the headstone

James held a remarkable look on his face as he heard that, somewhere between demented humor that this was Peter's reward from Voldemort himself, and still some grains of wondering when he'd finally show regret for his decision.

and again crumpled in pain, begging his master to help him, to keep his promise.

Voldemort indeed asked for his arm, but when he held up the stump hopefully, Voldemort pushed that aside and instead tried to snatch the other one. Wormtail again whimpered and pleaded his Master to help him,

Sirius got through that exchange like an executioner reading out the final charges. It really was easier to think of this cretin as some corpse going through these motions rather than someone he'd once put such trust in, put his own life in those hands, one of which was now gone in a willingly given gesture for these actions to be occurring.

but Voldemort ignored this and pushed back the sleeves of his unbloodied sleeve. There Harry spotted something branded into the skin, the same image that had hovered in the sky the night of the World Cup, the Dark Mark.

Voldemort pressed one of his long white fingers into it, and Harry's scar imploded with pain again.

Remus' mind flashed back through all the mentions of Snape and Karkaroff talking about something on their arm, and then to find the same thing now on that foul little rat, it couldn't really be a coincidence. But what was it exactly?

Voldemort straitened with satisfaction, murmuring to himself that now he would know the brave to return,

Lily had not a clue what was going on, what Voldemort was doing, nor where on earth that tattoo had come from. What she did gather was the fact that it seemed to be some sort of calling symbol, and that meant even more bad news was about to arrive.

and those foolish enough to stay away.

Harry was rubbing at his forearm thoughtfully, some lingering thoughts floating just beyond his conscious mind of how he felt about those questions.

Voldemort began pacing across Harry's field of vision, his ruby eyes again falling on the gagged teenager as he informed him that Harry stood upon the bones of his late father. Much like Harry's mother

James had already grown up hating Voldemort through his life, but in that moment where he actually referred to Lily, James wanted to see him dead more than ever. No one got to talk about his wife like that!

both had died but held their uses.

"Uses?" Lily spat in disgust. "I lived trying to protect my son, that's more than he'll ever understand."

Lily Potter had died defending her son,

Sirius would forever hate himself for having to say that, and still having even the slightest bit been involved in that happening, but then he conjured back the image of telling his wasteful parents that their precious Voldemort was in fact a half-blood with parent issues, and it gave him enough breath back to keep going.

and Voldemort had killed his father,

"So it was Voldemort who killed Riddle and his own grandparents," Remus marveled, wondering why he was even shocked. There were some questions in there he was curious about, like why, but this was Voldemort he was thinking about, he'd never really needed much of a reason to kill anybody, especially Muggles, certainly ones he was related too would be eliminated at Voldemort's earliest convenience.

and look how useful he'd been in his death.

Harry rubbed at his forehead a bit at that, there was a significance to what Voldemort had said about a father being useful in death...his eyes flickered to his own and away, he didn't like to think of his dad as dead in any sense even if it might have been helpful to him in his past.

Voldemort gave a soft laugh again as he continued his pacing, that snake still circling in the grass below mimicking his movement.

"I want to know what's with that thing?" James muttered of no one, anything to keep the feeling alive that they were hearing of this in the room rather than having to think about Harry living it. "They were only using its weird venom to keep Voldemort alive, yet he named it didn't he. What's so special about this snake?"

"I'm not really that surprised," Remus shrugged, "Voldemort claims to be the descendant of the Great Salazar Slytherin, I can easily picture him with some snake for a pet now."

"I can't picture him with anything resembling a pet," Lily disagreed, "he doesn't have the capacity to take care of a goldfish."

"We should just be thankful it's whatever this is, and not a basilisk," Sirius muttered.

Harry wasn't that grateful for his dad's comment, that annoying feeling cropping up again of an answer that should have been there. There was indeed something very significant about Nagini he just wasn't remembering.

Voldemort began telling Harry his story, how his own father had lived just over on that hill. His mother had lived in the village and fell in love, but Riddle had abandoned her when he found out what she was, his father hadn't liked magic.

"Oh joy, just what I always wanted, more Voldemort backstory," Sirius groused.

Lily on the other hand couldn't help but picture someone else saying this, someone who was now in Voldemort's ranks himself. Snape had made many of the same comments about his own father from time to time. It never failed to sadden her just how much alike her old friend and Voldemort seemed to be, far more than Snape and her had ever had in common it seemed.

He'd abandoned her while pregnant and not looked back, and she'd died giving birth to him, leaving him in an orphanage with the foul name of Tom Riddle, of the very same man who he now vowed revenge on.

Remus shook his head in disgust the longer this dragged on. "While no one's arguing the guy's an arse for trying to abandon his kid, I'm still struggling to wrap my head around how this turned him into the greatest evil in our world. And now I'm even wondering why he was named after his father, did the orphanage find out about that name through the mother before she died and gave it to him, because it's not like that Riddle seemed to have a say in it."

"You are reading far too much into this," Sirius sighed. "Just hate him and start plotting ways to stop this from happening like the rest of us."

Voldemort seemed to catch himself as he realized he was becoming sentimental,

"There's one thing I don't think anyone in the world's ever called that megalomaniac," James rolled his eyes.

recounting his life story for Potter, but now his real family was arriving.

Sirius sneered at the word family, absolutely convinced that Voldemort had no clue what that meant any more than the pathetic rat he employed.

The air was filled with the swishing of cloaks in long black attire and all faces covered as they Apparated as one. For a moment none moved, frozen in shock, until one finally shuffled forward, and flung itself at Voldemort's feet, kissing the hem of his robes.

Remus was flickering through all the known Death Eaters he'd heard about, and any one of them were considered so full of themselves it really was laughable whichever one it was groveling like that, making it all the more unbelievable they bowed to anyone, even Voldemort.

Soon they were all doing it, until Voldemort waved his hands that was enough, and then they all backed away and formed a circle around them with some noticeable gaps. Leaving Voldemort and Harry in the center, and a sobbing Wormtail still curled on the ground.

James wanted to ask Harry exactly how many there were, but he was honestly already faint at the idea of just how outnumbered his son was. The question had only occurred to him because he was pissed of how many free Death Eaters were out there. They'd known of some numbers, but this felt ridiculous that the Ministry hadn't been able to get so many of Voldemort's inner circle.

Voldemort didn't seem to be expecting anymore, as he began addressing them all by reminding them of how long it had been. Thirteen years, and they came to his call as if nothing had changed, still united.

Then he inhaled deeply, those blood-red eyes taking in all those around him as he stated he smelt their guilt.

Sirius had the mad desire to laugh. The way Voldemort was speaking to them, it all felt as theatrical as possible. He'd had a sense back when he'd been dealing with that odd diary that Voldemort had a grandiose idea of himself, but to be speaking like this really did just put a spin on how ridiculous the man sounded.

Voldemort stood before these men, healthy and free, and Voldemort asked himself why none before him had aided their master before this night.

Remus made a thrumming noise in his throat of deep curiosity as well, while not in the same light as Voldemort he did wonder the same. Like Sirius, he did wonder what exactly drew these people to Voldemort, if it was all to gain a bit of power than they should have been actively looking for the man who could give that back to them. Yet it had been a rat to find him and make this possible. This either meant he wasn't hard to find by Death Eater standards, or more likely since Dumbledore hadn't been able to find this husk, the rat had simply been the dedicated one to figure it out. His thoughts went back to that Pensive, of that deranged woman screaming about how Voldemort would reward her for being so loyal, and he was starting to wonder if in her own twisted way she'd been right. Voldemort was surely ticked at all of these that had been free and not spent every waking hour before now to make this moment happen.

No one spoke. No one moved except Wormtail, who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

Every time that was mentioned Sirius somehow still managed to add an extra layer of menace into his voice, even listening to all this Voldemort crap he still managed to somehow hate this most of all.

Voldemort answered his own question, how his followers had believed him broken and gone. They'd slipped back to society pleading ignorance and bewitchment.

"I'd make a joke about how talking to himself has made him go as mad as Crouch has, but I guess we already knew that ship has sailed," James huffed.

"There's still a chance he's gone even more up the ladder," Lily reminded, "getting blasted out of your body most likely does something to your mental health as well."

"I'm so sure Voldemort cares deeply about this," Remus rolled his eyes at the pair even if he did manage a smile, they're comments really did seem to be helping Harry as a constant reminder that they were here for him.

He returned by asking himself why they would believe such a thing? When he'd shown them all the steps he'd taken to defeat mortality.

Sirius narrowed his eyes curiously at that, hoping that if this monologuing was going to continue, at least Voldemort could go into details about this part. Sirius wanted to know what exactly those steps were, they'd clearly been the thing to keep him alive against a rebounding Killing Curse.

They'd seen his proof of becoming mightier than any alive being.

"I can not get over how full of himself he is," Lily shook her head with a twist of her lips. "I'm now grateful that in the times where he's fought our side he's never tried to monologue during it."

"Though if he had, we'd have this problem nipped by now," James pointed out, "so maybe that's how we get rid of this guy, try to get him talking about himself."

"I'll make a list of conversation starters," Sirius rolled his eyes at the pair.

He again answered himself that his loyal followers could have perhaps traded allegiance to that of their enemy, Dumbledore.

His circle shivered as one, some even murmured this not to be true, but still they were ignored as Voldemort continued speaking to himself about how disappointed he was.

"First bit of good news I've heard all night," Remus grumbled.

"Wish he'd stay that way," Sirius agreed.

One man collapsed to his knees again, begging his Master to forgive them, forgive them all.

Voldemort's response was to use Crucio on him.

The Death Eater writhed on the ground, shreking in agony, while Harry was left silently begging for someone nearby to have heard.

Lily's arm kept tightening around her baby all the time, sure she'd never gripped anything so tight in her life to assure herself Harry was right here beside her now, not being forced to live through this again any more than he had to. Pity didn't quite define what she felt for her baby. She completely understood his desperate desire for help to arrive, but she had no doubts that not a soul actually knew where he was, and no Muggle could do a thing for him.

Voldemort lifted his curse, and commanded Avery to get back to his feet. Voldemort would not be forgiving anyone until they repaid their thirteen years of service owed.

"I'm hoping you won't live past the next thirteen minutes," Sirius snapped, "so Avery's not going to get his chance."

Another high pitched sob drew Voldemort's attention back to Wormtail, admitting to himself that at least this one had already started on that path. Reminding him that he deserved this pain-

James was trembling, whether in rage or despair no one was sure, for that being so irrevocably true and he still wanted more than anything for it to not be.

to which Wormtail moaned in agreement even while still begging his Master to help him.

Remus was starting to get concerned about letting Sirius continue like this, it just couldn't be good for his health, or throat, to keep reading about that in the most violent way possible, but as it was the only release Sirius could find instead of murdering that rat like he deserved, Remus wasn't going to be the one to stop him.

Voldemort nodded to himself, saying that while worthless, Wormtail had been of service, and Voldemort rewarded that.

Lily already realized that rat had broken her list of people who needed to be purged from her life, but now every time she was forced to see the reaction it gave James it was still somehow made worse every time.

Voldemort gave another flick of his wand, and something silver materialized in the air, which sunk down to Wormtail's level and developed into a fist over his stump. His sobbing finally ceasing, Wormtail sat up and inspected the now gleaming metal, flexing his fingers in surprise.*

The fact that he was actually being rewarded really did somehow feel like the worst part. Like their friendship, this family, all the times they'd shared over the past years of their life hadn't been enough for him, and he'd gone crawling to everything they'd ever stood against, and somehow he actually still hadn't shown an ounce of remorse for his choice.

He remained on the ground for a moment longer as he began kissing the hem of his Master's robes, thanking him for such a thing.

Sirius didn't care how long he lived, that image would forever be branded into his brain and he couldn't ever peel it away no matter how much it hurt, how much he still didn't want it to be true and still wanted to end his life before any of this could begin.

Voldemort told Wormtail that this was a sign Wormtail would never again question his loyalties, to which was instantly agreed.

For some reason something of what Dumbledore had once said tried to come floating back to the surface of Harry's mind, something about how Harry actually would one day be thankful that Wormtail was so heavily involved in all of this. Harry believed that now more than ever as he heard about this hand.

Wormtail finally got to his feet and entered the circle, while Voldemort began addressing more individuals, starting with Lucius.

"Wow, so we were right, Malfoy is part of the inner circle," Lily huffed, her own mind still distracted, caught on the never ending realization they'd all been suffering through that one of their own was now a part of the same thing.

Voldemort began with reproach, asking how someone who had made it so high in the Ministry's rankings had never come to his Lord's aid.

Malfoy swore he'd always kept a watchful ear out, if ever he'd heard the slightest sound of his Master's return he would have been there-

"Is it wrong to say I'm actually enjoying listening to him beg like this," Sirius got out through gritted teeth, the opposite of looking like he was enjoying any part of this.

Nobody responded, they weren't entirely sure how much of a joke that was supposed to be, as well as Sirius could find his own pleasure in whatever he needed right now anyways so they wouldn't tell him off for it regardless.

Voldemort cut him off by reminding he'd fled when the Mark had been cast in the sky.

Mr. Malfoy instantly stopped his speech.

"I can not get over the fact that Harry's referring to him as Mr. Malfoy," Remus directed at Lily, hoping the friendly reminder of when Harry had first met Hagrid would make even one slight worry line disappear from her face.

Voldemort told how disappointed he was in this, and expected more faithful service in the future.

Harry wondered why he thought he should have a feeling about that, some sense of something telling him the Malfoy line and Voldemort's service could hold something to him...

Voldemort moved on from him then, where a double space could have housed two people. Voldemort stared as if he still saw them there, murmuring to himself about the Lestranges.

Sirius' hard face managed to give an extra spasm of hatred at the reminder of his family. He already knew what had become of one of his cousins, Narcissa had married a Malfoy and he was honestly surprised she hadn't been mentioned right along with Lucius, and he'd heard rumors of what Bellatrix had become, if he wasn't mistaken this was in fact her new last name. Only Andromeda had made anything good of herself, at least he hoped she'd stayed that way in all these years.

He knew of their life in Azkaban, how they were there because they had not renounced their ways, and Voldemort swore when Azkaban was broken they would be honored for this.

Remus shook his head in disgust, thinking back to that Pensive and that woman who had believed this same thing. Guess she had been right, though with any luck she was long dead, it would certainly serve her right. They had no confirmation if Crouch's son had been involved in what happened to the Longbottoms, but she certainly hadn't done a thing to make it seem she hadn't otherwise, so Azkaban was a rightful resting place for a wretched being like that.

Then he mentioned how easy this would be with the dementors joining their side,

"I believe that," James shivered, "Dumbledore's always said it's a miracle they haven't deserted us already, the majority of them have. I keep hearing fewer numbers are keeping their prison in check all the time."

"Well we need a new prison anyways," Lily snapped, "so good riddance to them."

as well as the giants and all manner of dark creatures.

Remus gave a particularly vicious shiver at that, it really wasn't his favorite job he now had to be helping keeping tabs on a select group of those fearsome monsters, he among them.

Voldemort moved on to face Macnair, speaking of his job in the Ministry as a beast executioner.

Sirius had an individual hatred for that loon, the one who'd tried to kill Buckbeak, the same creep who'd walked around with an axe the whole time around children. It really didn't surprise him in the slightest he was among these high ranking, he was the kind you had probably found burning live kittens in his youth.

Next he addressed Crabbe and Goyle, only sparing enough words to gain their promises of further loyalty.

"Wow, and here I thought their kids were just meat suites without brains," James said nastily. "Turns out they're as trollish as their own dad's."

Lily hummed without comment that time, etching all of these into her own mental list, some of the worry for her son finally lessening just slightly enough she was realizing how useful all this information could be to the Order, they were getting a handpicked list of the elite after all, many of which were indeed still active in the Ministry now. She'd worry about details on how to nail them all after Harry was out of there, she'd still rather have the ignorance of not knowing than how she was learning this.

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

"That about describes everything they do," Sirius snarked.

After Nott was next named, Voldemort stopped in front of the largest gap, where he claimed six should stand. Three had died, one was clearly too cowardly to return, and another had long since left his service and would pay with his life. The last of which Voldemort already knew of and still remained his faithful servant.

"That was mentioned once before too wasn't it?" Lily muttered to herself. "Someone faithful who'd been helping him out along with- the first one we heard about." Her throat wasn't quite able to swallow all of a sudden it was so dry, and she trailed off from there with nothing more to add on. The one name Voldemort hadn't given, the one they really wanted to know.

Remus was keeping his own running list in his head, and realized that at least two of those most likely referred to Karkaroff and Snape, though he had no clue who was who. He didn't really think that was giving them too much credit anymore, not the way they'd been speaking all year about something like this happening. All he was left wondering who the third was. Could it be one of those two who were his most faithful and had been helping him out as well, or someone else altogether they hadn't even heard about yet.

Voldemort informed those around him his faithful servant was at Hogwarts, and was the reason they were all here tonight.

James made a demented noise. He somehow had found a new level for hate on either Karkaroff or Snape. His money was on Snape, but since it really had been either of them to put his son in there, they were going to suffer for it in the worst way he could conceive.

All attention was turned back on Harry now, some would even call him their guest of honor.

"Well I'm certainly not that some, and you need to not ever say that again," Lily snapped to no one, knowing she couldn't stand Voldemort taunting Harry being there much longer without blasting down a wall of her house in anger.

Voldemort let the silence continue until Malfoy spoke up again, craving his Lord to tell how this miracle had become.

Voldemort agreed he'd share the tale, which all began, and ended, with Harry Potter.

Aside from the abundance of information regarding names they were being force fed from his meeting, James wondered if he'd get something even more important to him. Would Voldemort finally divulge the very reason he'd started with his boy in the first place?

He began by recounting this boy as his downfall, all the while Harry was only just managing to follow along every word with his scar in agony.

Lily was mouthing her anger that on top of all this Harry was in fact in pain this whole time, if being in close contact to the essence of Voldemort had hurt Harry, then she could only imagine how that had increased with his own body. Her only saving grace for now was that it wasn't happening to him now, he still kept himself still as possible, one hand curled securely around her, the other hooked into James. James had been randomly patting it this whole time as a reminder to himself as well, thankful beyond words their infant had never been brought back down to be any part of this.

Stating the fabled tale of how his mother had died to save him,

Lily's touch seemed to warm Harry all the more. Not that he'd ever forget that for a moment in his life, nor ever be able to find happiness in the act of her life being cost, but there was still something he could never put into words of the magic of the act that went beyond any spell.

and how she'd unwittingly given him life that night, something that had not been foreseen. Voldemort could not touch him.

Remus was starting to get a bad feeling about this, his fingers already tightening around his wand as he remembered the last time Voldemort had tried to act on that and had nearly choked Harry to death. Why was Voldemort even keeping Harry alive now? He'd played his part in the resurrection potion, was it all really for gloating now?

Voldemort raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Harry's cheek.

Harry had to beat back the impulse to lean away from those touching him now, that horrible ingrained pain still trying to remind him it had once existed in his scar, soon to be even worse though he wouldn't have believed that possible.

Voldemort whispered and still all heard that the sacrifice of old magic had been overlooked,

"You make that mistake a lot," Sirius snapped cheerfully, "and it's put a hole in your boat so many times I hope it never stops."

"Sirius, I don't think that's actually a saying," James sighed more than joked back.

"Well it is now," Sirius replied like that was obvious, and for a moment as the two best friends met eyes something felt normal even for just that second before Sirius forced himself to resume.

but in the end, all in vain. Harry Potter could now be touched.

He placed the tip of his finger against Harry's scar, who screamed harder than he had in his life, now convinced his head was being cleaved in two.

Voldemort hissed a laugh in his ear, but pulled away to continue.

"Wha-How!?" Lily screeched, her arm starting to shake across Harry's shoulders. The thing she'd been able to leave him with, a sliver of protection she'd lost her life for, and now even that was gone. She felt like a failure as a mother, nothing she'd ever done had been enough for him.

Lily looked as likely to burst into tears of frustration as murder someone in that moment, so Remus felt like he was poking his own death as he reminded, "the potion that resurrected him Lily. He used Harry's blood, that makes them as connected as their wands now." He'd thought the others had realized this, it made sense when you went back and realized why Voldemort had wanted to use only Harry for this when that rat had been right, it would have been easier to get a hold of another other than Harry for this.

Apparently not as the others lost an extra shade of color, all false bravado of pretending this was okay falling out the window. Stupidly, Harry had felt a teensy bit safer with at least the knowledge Voldemort couldn't lay a hand on Harry, now even that was taken from them!

Sirius was looking from the book, to each of them in turn, like he was waiting for someone to actually offer some good news, something that would make this bearable for him to keep going. No one was, that ship had long sailed, and instead Sirius just wanted this chapter to end with Harry getting out of this place already.

His fault had been his downfall, and he was stripped from his body with pain he could not begin to describe. Still he did not despair, as some of the measures he'd taken for immortality had seemed to take effect, but not in the way he'd hoped. He had no body, and no way to use a wand,

James could feel the powder he was grinding his teeth to in frustration. In all this talking and posturing and making his life a living hell, Voldemort was still holding back on the important details, like an example of those bleeding experiments so they could make sure this didn't happen when James removed this snake's head!

so he'd been forced to exist in that state of being as he snuck away to a safe forest he knew of, waiting in vain for the help he should have expected from one of his loyal followers.

Those around him all shivered again in fear, and Voldemort let the silence linger for emphasis before continuing.

"If only he'd kill them all and save us the job," Sirius snarled.

The only temporary solace he'd found was when a young, foolish wizard had found him, and in luck's favor, had even been employed in Dumbledore's very school.

"What do I have to pay this guy to make him stop already," James moaned. He was sick with worry every passing moment Harry was there a second longer, and now they were having to hear about all of this stuff again they'd already had to live through. Harry didn't need this in his life repeated a third time, it had already nearly killed him the first two!

His goal had been the Philosopher's Stone, but again he'd been thwarted by Harry Potter.

"Did we ever congratulate you for doing that?" Remus sighed as he tried to usher back to a time where Voldemort popping out of Quirrell's head was the worst part of their day.

He didn't know what kind of answer he was expecting, but Harry not answering wasn't an encouraging one. He was still acting distant to the world around him. This night in the graveyard, what he'd already witnessed happening to Cedric, it was enough to drive anyone mad the first time around, now he was being forced to hear it all again. The one and only thing that seemed to be keeping him here was whatever response he got from his parents.

That struggle had ended with the death of Quirrell, and he was left as weak as ever.

"Please don't tell me he's going to start recounting your second year as well," Sirius groaned.

"That's actually an interesting question of if he even knows," Remus reminded. "We never even understood how a bit of his soul got into that diary, and Harry killed it with the basilisk fang. I can't imagine why Voldemort would know anything about it, considering it was aged so many years before the body he's in now, so the most he'd say was a passing comment about Harry doing that when he felt a bit of his soul die." Remus kind of wanted to keep going, that old intriguing question of what exactly would be happening if that Voldemort soul part had succeeded and come back to life. Would it have merged with the rest of this body, or stayed two separate entities? He was clearly the only one thinking on this, and knew the others were long since done with this whole night and wanted it to be over. Remus didn't even really care for finding answers to this, it was just easier to postulate ridiculous ideas like this than have to keep thinking of Harry tied to a headstone.

Voldemort had returned to his hiding, giving up hope.

James released a torrent of sounds as he begged this to end there no matter how much he knew otherwise. The next part, the bit where he had indeed gotten exactly what he wanted, was still the worst part of all.

Even he hadn't expected the change to come, when Wormtail had been driven out of hiding by once friends and forced to seek out his old Master.

Harry again felt the burn of Trelawney's prophecy tormenting his life, now complete and in the flesh. What he would give to go and take back his part in this coming true.

This had been accomplished through his curious affinity with rats.

"One that he thankfully can't retain in death, so look for some silver lining," Lily hissed under her breath.

The rodents had whispered of the forests of Albania where their kind sensed evil, and Wormtail had made his way there. All had almost been lost before it even begun, as Wormtail stumbled into Bertha Jorkins. Showing a spot of intelligence none would have guessed from him, Wormtail had continued to work this in his favor and a wealth of information was born from that woman.

Sirius hated himself for somehow still finding new ways to despise that miserable bit of existence. He just wanted to have him dead already and be done with that part of his life, this continuing to be dragged out always managed to find new ways of torturing him along.

Through persuasion, she'd told of the Triwizard Tournament, and even after a Memory Charm had been broken, divulged of a faithful Death Eater willing to go to Voldemort's service. Once she'd shared all she knew, her mind and body were damaged beyond repair.

Harry couldn't even imagine what Bertha's last few moments of life had been like, but he could understand a small bit of her pain. He felt it every time a powerful memory was returned to his own mind after some kind of Memory blocking had been put on him. He was going slow, relearning this bit by bit, and he still felt like it was slowly driving him mad. He couldn't imagine someone being forced to have it all come back at once, that really would drive a person out of their own skull.

Remus shook his head in disgust at himself, this was all so clear in hindsight. Bertha had worked in the Department of Magical Cooperation, and would have known about the Tournament before hand like every other employee there. When Voldemort had previously mentioned how useful her information had been, that had been what helped put this whole plan into action. The reason her memory had gone from so good in the way they remembered to this way was because she'd had a Memory Charm placed on her, and then broken in the worst way. Now the only thing he was left wondering was who was the servant that had executed that plan, and who'd placed it on her in the first place, what had been hidden that revolved that secret?

Voldemort shown his scarlet eyes on Wormtail, admitting his own shock at such an ill adapted wizard accomplishing all that.

A distant part of James absently noted how even Voldemort kept downplaying Peter's skills when they'd been the very things to get Voldemort where he was now. It seemed everyone constantly mocked and laughed at him, and yet the Marauders never had, but instead encouraged and helped along what he was good at. What had they done so wrong that had forced their friend away?

A plan had been formed from Bertha's information, and while Voldemort had been nursed back to health using Nagini's venom, the potion was being prepared that gave Voldemort the body he now possessed. They had the first ingredient of unicorns blood, but still needed the rest. The flesh had been provided, the bone would detail the setup of where this would happen.

Lily hadn't believed she could be any more shocked tonight, but still she managed to utter in surprise, "so, his Death Eaters know he's not a pureblood?"

"I, um, guess they do," James wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about that, but he knew at some point in the future when he sadly would go back thinking to this he'd be disappointed. They'd been planning to spread this information around, hopefully discredit Voldemort's top people in hopes they'd desert him, and now that plan seemed as useless as anything else they'd ever tried to do.

The blood of the foe had been the tricky part. Wormtail had been happy to use anyone, but Voldemort knew the one he must have. To share Harry Potter's blood, so that the lingering magical protection would now be in his own veins.

Lily looked beyond disgusted at the idea. She'd thought it repulsive to share anything with Petunia, but this was just as bad! How dare the very thing that kept trying to hurt her son somehow manage to house his very protection!

The boys were suddenly aware of a way to kill Voldemort, release Lily on him. She looked so fearsome in that moment if she'd actually had her target present, not even a puddle would be left of him.

The question of how to reach Harry Potter was the issue, as the boy was so well protected in ways Dumbledore had planned from the moment this started.

That question made something occur to Remus for the first time, but it was such a small thing making a blip in his mind as compared to the other more pressing matters he knew he couldn't be bothered to question that until he had the much better knowledge of hearing Harry be free of this nightmare.

Ancient magic was invoked to ensure the boy's protection as long as he was in his relations' care.

James' brain felt like a broken record, all he'd been managing to due for ages now was utter, "wait, what?" Always feeling one step behind now.

Lily's face squinched up in pain as she processed this, muttering, "I've never heard of that."

"I can believe it though," Remus said sourly. "It doesn't excuse what Dumbledore did in even the slightest bit in not checking in on Harry with those abusive excuse for people, but it still always blew my mind of why he'd been put there in the first place when neither of you ever even mentioned Petunia's existence."

Sirius wished that at any time Harry had ever demanded of Dumbledore why he had to keep going back there, if Dumbledore would really use the excuse Harry was safer there than out because of some protective magic. No magic was infallible, and safe was the last thing Harry was at the hands of those Dursleys.

Harry watched them all with fascination, surprised he'd finally been dragged out the recesses of his mind to focus in on them muttering about the Dursleys again. He supposed if there was someone to rival their hatred of Voldemort and Wormtail, it was Vernon and Petunia, not that this was at all comforting. Harry at once wanted to sink back into not having to listen to anymore words, if he kept trying to understand past that to those around him he was going to suffer even more pain for the realization he was living through all of this because the scene around him would never happen in his own time. Sadly, now that he'd been snapped out, he couldn't find the distance to go back.

Then there had been the Quidditch Cup, where his body had still been too weak to attempt a kidnap around so many, but then more of Bertha's information had been of use. Voldemort had placed his faithful Death Eater at Hogwarts, who'd ensured Harry's name would be placed in the Goblet of Fire.

"Holy Godric Gryffindor!" Sirius yelped.

"We are complete morons," James gasped as that was slapped into his face.

"This whole bleeding time, we were thinking they were actually two unrelated- Merlin's pants are we something stupid," Remus snarled as he nearly ripped the sleeve of his robe off he was pulling on it so hard in agitation.

That one really should have clicked together when Harry had appeared here, but in between Cedric dying and the appearance of that rat, it had been hard to think past anything else. Now they realized that in fact, this whole year had been one big set up to this end, and they all felt like fools for not grasping this sooner.

Harry wasn't going to let them wallow in their misery for long, failing to come up with an encouraging smile in his search for something to say, but still getting out, "if it makes you all feel any better, no one else figured this out either. Really, how could anyone have known that Voldemort's ultimate plan was for me to win some competition."

Lily supposed when he put it that way it did sound ridiculous, but it still didn't erase how bleeding frustrating it always was to find themselves lost amongst all these plans around Harry until it was too late. Still she forced some chipper into her voice as she agreed with him, if anything just because it was the first time he'd spoken in ages and she wanted to encourage that as much as possible.

Sirius forced himself to keep going at this point just because he saw an end in sight of this chapter.

His faithful Death Eater had ensured Potter's first place, and transformed the Triwizard Cup into a Portkey so that they could all be here now, far from Dumbledore's protection.

None of that was helping narrow out their two suspects, both had access to all of that.

Now here he was at their mercy, the one who everyone believed to be Voldemort's downfall.

"And will be again, and again, and again, until you learn to stay the hell away from him," James snarled, his own arm tightening around his wife and son possessively which would stay that way until Voldemort was gone.

Voldemort moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand,

Harry recognized what was coming a moment before he watched Sirius utter that spell.

and used Crucio.

When the memory of that pain surged in his mind, but didn't actually make a comeback on him, Harry forced himself to slowly relax back into his parents grip, trying to insist upon his brain that wasn't happening to him now, but it helped nothing when he couldn't convince himself this still wasn't the most painful part of his night.

This was pain beyond anything imaginable, his eyes were rolling in his head, he knew the only relief he'd ever feel again was the blackness of death.

Sirius felt tears stinging at the edge of his vision as he forced himself to read of that happening to his pup. He could hardly imagine the idea without wanting to throw himself in front of Harry now. The infant in the crib, the fourteen year old suffering through this for the first time alone and helpless, or even the adult now cushioned between his parents. Absolutely none of it could ever be comprehended in any way other than the worst torture in the world to imagine that happening to Harry.

It stopped as suddenly as it started, and if Harry hadn't been bound in place, there was no way he'd be upright.

Voldemort looked pleased as the night rang with laughter from his followers.

Whatever the opposite of laughter was, Remus could hear himself making that, but forcing himself to do it as privately as he could, he didn't want Sirius to stop now, he was to desperate to hear of the something else, anything else happening than Harry torture until he got out of there which wasn't happening soon enough.

Still, Voldemort swore that while it would be easy to dispose of this child, he wanted no one in doubt of his own true power. Harry Potter would be killed now, with no Dumbledore protection, and no mother to die for him.

There was not a shadow of a doubt in anyone's mind that Lily would make that call over and over again, but it didn't explain why something came over Harry's expression when he heard that. In fact Harry had looked the same way every time one of his parents had come up for a while now, what was it about this night that had him feeling so much for the two. Was it possible Voldemort would start taunting their last moments again, Harry had looked much like he was now when that had happened before.

Instead, Harry Potter was to be released, and handed back his wand.

"That was the stupidest thing he could have done," Remus sneered, "as I finally figured out the way you're going to get out of there, putting Voldemort in his place."

"I think you lot have far too much faith in me," Harry whispered, still keeping a tight hand on each of his parents. "No, whatever did save me from that place, it wasn't my doing, it was Voldemort's own fault, again."

"Well whatever the case, let's be done with it," Sirius pleaded, of whom even he wasn't sure.

HPHPHPHP

*Did anyone else first read this moment and think, 'oh my god he's going to kill Remus!' I mean, I'm happy I was wrong, but come on, the silver hand, he'd already been a hand in killing one Marauder and trying to kill another, (yes I consider leaving Sirius when he did was as good as a death sentence.) Remus was the only one he hadn't personally had a chance at yet...

[lady-of-lies]

An off feeling

A/N: I’m back to posting! Not regularly I’m afraid but my goal is to catch up on the year long challenge since I’m on Christmas vacation now. This is not edited since it’s late and my eyes are bleeding (not really but you get the deal) and it’s inspired by Ally Brooke’s song Low key

Prompt: “...I left it in my room...”

Word count: 1252 (What!?, consider it compensation for my inactive-ness)

Warnings: None that I know of

Loki Laufeyson x gender neutral reader

Something was off. You had known it from the moment you set your foot inside the giant elevator doors. The air just had that scent of mystery to it and the familiar feeling of not knowing immediately, albeit slowly,  made its way creeping up your spine, unleashing a wave of pleasant shivers. You loved this feeling, but at the same time you hated it. Your body being weird like that, you loved the idea of surprises and taking the day as it comes, but when it really comes down to it you’re scared of what’s going to happen next. It was like two different people trapped inside one person.

You knew you shouldn’t have assumed the tower to be empty just because the common room, at the moment, for once, happened to be unoccupied. But you had wanted to try the acoustique in here for an eternity. That’s right. Singing, one of life's greatest remedies for rainy and otherwise boring days had been a passion since childhood. The only problem was that you would prefer to keep it on the low-key for personal reasons. Only because you are one of the Avengers doesn’t mean that your self esteem is through the roof, not everyone’s like Tony Stark, which supposedly is a good thing.

You can’t remember a time when you didn’t wonder how it would be to sing in a room as soon as you walked into it, you just couldn’t help it. It was one of the few ways you could blow off some steam in a more creative manner and if you ever found yourself in a funk of any kind, you sang, you sang all your emotions out and it somehow left your head feeling much lighter afterwards. There was something indescribable in hearing a melody you create resonating between the walls of a room.

There was this one song you had found a way back. It was silly, very so, but you couldn’t help yourself. You had refrained from singing it, or even playing it before, because of the person it reminded you of. You had had feelings for the one and only god of mischief since… who knows, and you were not about to let it slip just because of a silly song. But since there was no one here… there really was no harm in singing just a few lines is there? After a long and somewhat tiring inner debate you decided to just go for it, screw your inner piglet for being so anxious about anything and everything.

 Let's forget about our phones until the morning

('Til the morning)

We can post up, no one gets to see our story (Oh no)

I can take you places you ain't been before me

Then, the rest I guess is self-explanatory

All your friends are looking for you

They don't know where you're at

'Cause you left with me

And slipped out the back (Ah, shh)

Low key, low key

You should really get to know me

(Get to know me)

Low key, low key

You should really get to know me (Ah, ah)

Yeah, I know you got some things

That you could show me (Oh oh)

Low key, low key

You should really get to know me

You heard a loud noise coming from behind and as you twirled around you caught sight of the last person you expected or wanted. Loki. He just stood behind the kitchen counter a few meters away knocking a few glasses over on his way over to the coffee machine. You know, for an actual god, someone who descends from completely different realm,  he had found his love for coffee surprisingly fast. But before you let your mind explore that thought further you pulled yourself together. He had heard you sing, there was no way he could have missed it with how the loud music blasted from Tony’s obnoxiously expensive stereo system. Why had you sung that song? Out of all the songs stuck in your head why did you have to choose that one?

you had almost forgotten where you were when a low but smooth voice brought you back to reality. 

“Do you mind if I borrow your mug?”

Ok… Not exactly the first thing you had imagined him saying in this particular situation but whatever floats his boat. Your voice was somewhat shaky as you responded, you couldn’t help but wonder how and when he would address the elephant in the room, with Loki you could never be too cautious.

“No, uh, go ahead, I guess..?”

Your mind was a rollercoaster. A rollercoaster picking up speed with each passing second and with no way off. Never had you thought this was how your most secret passion would be relieved, and never in a million years would you have guessed Loki would be the one to do so, especially not while you sung that song. Maybe you should say something? You should definitely say something. That something should probably have been more thought through, but in this case your mouth was faster to act.

“didn’t Thor give you a brand new one not too long ago? Why don’t you just use that one?”

Stupid mouth. Couldn’t it have been something that didn’t ad to the awkward tension spreading in what felt like the whole tower like a wildfire. Loki didn’t lift an eyebrow though, he just continued on with his task like there was nothing wrong. Maybe there wasn’t? Had he really heard you? Something had felt off when you walked in earlier and now you knew what. You figured out what. The mug. Loki’s favourite coffee mug. It had been standing on the small table by the window when you stepped in. How had you not noticed? He had been in the room all the time and you were too caught up in your creative ways to acknowledge his presence.

“It’s a complicated and long story, i’d rather just borrow yours. Where is it anyway?”

Shit. Your mug was currently sitting on your desk, directly in front of a very old photo album and a coffee stained piece of paper you made a mental note to print a new copy of later. You remember how mad you had been when the mission call had gotten in and oh so rudely interrupted your sentimental morning. 

“Oh, right… I uh… I left it in my room… I can go and get it though! really it’s no trouble at all I’ll just be a minute-”

You felt yourself begin to ramble and quickly make your way out of the room, but before you could even make it past the nearest sofa you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, successfully causing you to halt mid-step and stumble backwards into a very tall, very lean, and very broad shouldered god. You just stood like that for a moment, neither of you saying a word. Not until you felt him draw in a deep breath. You felt his chest vibrate against your back as he spoke.

“Don’t bother. I’ll just take summon a new one, or two, since you’re here I see no point in drinking a hot beverage by oneself. Maybe I’ll even let you try one of my Asgardian biscuits I have stashed away for special occasions. Let’s just call it one of many things I could show you..”

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[headoverjojo]

Maybe Bucci gang’s reaction to a mermaid S/O? Like, they have a mission to the beach and BOOM mermaid

Hi there honey! Aaaaa more mer, more mer, yay!!! Thank you for your request :3 I hope you’ll like it!!

Bruno’s gang with a mermaid s/o

(Under the cut for length!)

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno always loved the sea with all his might, but he never imagined that the sea could love him back with the same strength. He never imagined that the s/o he loves so much, with all his heart, was a mermaid! He also didn’t know that mermaids could live on land, but legends could be wrong in many ways. He noticed that his s/o loved a lot to go to the beach, but he supposed it was a common love for the sea, as he had too, nothing more!

This until a fatidic mission. They had to infiltrate in a building situated on an artificial island not so far from the land, but it was so guarded that going near on a boat was impossible: the only possible way was to infiltrate from underwater, but how? Renting a small submarine? Renting sub mutes? Even underwater it was guarded… this until his s/o, seeing that such an important mission was in danger, revealed her secret. She entered the water, revealing her real nature: a scaled tail replaced her legs, grills opened on her neck and a thin membrane extended between her fingers. Bruno almost cannot breath. His s/o… his s/o was a mermaid. A real mermaid, it wasn’t a stand work. They snapped him out of his staring, hurring him up to enter the water and hold on them: they had a mission to do!!

After the mission was successfully fulfilled, Bruno had finally the time to admire his s/o, asking them about how it was to be a mermaid, about their life in the sea… from then on, boat trips are common: Bruno stops the boat far from the coast, and, when they’re alone, they can finally swim around, human and mermaid, land and sea united in the name of love.

Leone Abbacchio

Even if he didn’t love the sea as much as Bruno, watching the floating water always had the almost magic effect to calm him down. The sea was a certain point: it was always here, no matter what was happening to him, the sea was always here with his calming sound. His quiet love for sea didn’t go unnoticed: a creature straight from the sea came from the water for the love they felt for him and to stay at his side: his beloved and cherished s/o.

He didn’t know about his s/o’s special nature until an important mission: Abbacchio had to investigate with his Moody Blues on a sequestered boat, but they had to get on it unnoticed: it was fundamental for the good success of the mission. While Abbacchio was mulling over how do it, since it was heavily guarded, his s/o came with the only possible solution at the moment: using their real nature to sneak on the boat. They said to hurry and come in the water, but Abbacchio stopped on his tracks when he noticed that they were… different. Their hands had membranes and they had… grills on their shoulder blades, like sharks. A glimpse of their scaled tail was the last thing he needed to finally see the truth: they were a mermaid. A real one, not a stand-like one. But it wasn’t time to marvel about it: Abbacchio regained his control in few minutes and quickly swam near them, letting them grab him and dive down, swimming fastly to the boat and the main part of the mission.

After that mission, Abbacchio wants to ask them so many things. How is it possible? He thought mermaids were just legends and that, especially, they could live just in the water… but hearing that the love they felt for him gave them legs to walk on legs and at his side completely undone him. He never felt so loved and special, never in his life. He’s absolutely not going to reject them, just… he begs them to not keep secrets like this from him anymore. He understands that this secret had to be protected, but he hates secrets, especially if he trusts someone: they can trust him as much as he trusts them. Their secret is more than safe with him.

Guido Mista

Mista never crazily loved the sea, nor he despised it; he was pretty neutral about it. He liked to go to spend chill afternoons by the sea, watching the waves -he especially loved to see the sun setting down in the sea-, sometimes walking on the shore… Mista, however, was always really respectful of sea and beach, always picking up trash when he spotted it. He didn’t know that his respect was returned and that a creature from the sea loved him so much to willingly leave their home to stay near him: his precious s/o.

Mista never suspected about his s/o’s real nature -they loved the sea way more than him, but he wasn’t going to question it: everyone loved what they preferred- until they found themselves trapped in a corner, their back and left side framed by a high metallic barrier and the sea on their right side. They hadn’t chances, even the Pistols couldn’t take down every target… they had to escape, and quickly, but how? Mista wasn’t a great swimmer, he wouldn’t have done even a couple of meter before being shot down. But his s/o had the situation under their control: they grabbed his hand and dragged him with them in the sea, diving down, down… Mista couldn’t even free himself, their grip was too strong! But then he saw: he saw their tail, he saw the grills on their neck, and they were swimming so fast, so far from their enemies… the travel lasted not even twenty seconds and they fastly brought him to the surface, to let him breath, holding him tightly, as he, too, was holding them for his dear life. A mermaid… his s/o was a mermaid!!

Guido is extremely fascinated by their real nature. He asks how it is to live under the sea, if they have a family, why, in case, they left them for him… he can’t help but to feel loved and special, when they say they’d do it a thousand times more, if it means to be with him. Still, he hates the thought of them far from their family, so he decides that, if they want, they can rent a boat every week, so they can be safely far from the coast and go to see their family. They can’t believe it, they’re touched to the point of tears: their love for Guido grows bigger and bigger, fueled by his good heart and sweetness. They really couldn’t choose a better human as boyfriend!

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia, of course, knew what mermaids were, as he listened to many stories about them. He found them interesting, but he never thought a lot about them, especially when he had a free day and it was summer: it meant beach day! Narancia loved water, he loved to splash and swim and play in water with his friends. He had so much fun in the sea! And the sea had fun watching him play, as the mermaid that chose to leave their home to become his friend and then his lover, his s/o, his most precious treasure.

He absolutely didn’t have even the slightest suspicion that his s/o was a mermaid until, during a mission, they were on the run on a secluded deck; Aerosmith was shooting like crazy to their trackers, Narancia’s hand was tightly wrapped around his s/o’s one as they were running… but, unfortunately, his pendant, the only memory he had of his mother, flew off in the water. Narancia whined in despair and frustration, knowing that it was likely lost forever. The only memory he had of his mom… knowing how important the pendant was, his s/o freed their hand from his and dived in the waves, not hearing Narancia’s screams or Aerosmith’s shooting anymore. Narancia, while they were down, had shot down everyone and was frantically waiting for them to emerge, it was passed too much time… were they drowned? Oh god, what could he do, he had to go, he had to search for them…. but, before he could dive as well, his s/o emerged, with his pendant safely in their hand. And that was the moment he saw it: their tail, their scales, the grills… they were a mermaid, as the legends he always heard from fishermen.

Narancia’s very curious about his s/o’s true nature! How is it to be a mermaid? How fast can they swim? Can they talk with fishes? A lot of his questions make them laugh in sincere amusement. He’s so cute and excited! They love to take him with them to some good spots and play with him in water, laughing and hugging and twirling in the waves, sometimes they even do swim races! Who wins gets a kiss. Narancia’s never be so fine in losing to someone, as now he has to kiss them!

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo learned about mermaids, or sirens, while studying the Odyssey, but he never was found of that type of sirens. He preferred the classic mermaids with fish tail and human torso! He also loved the sea, as it always had been a constant presence in his life, to the point that he was missing more the sea than his parents, when he was studying at Bologna university. Sea always helped him to calm down, its constant movements and sound always tamed his anger… he felt a deep love and respect for the sea, and those feelings were returned; his s/o, who decided to give their love to him and just to him was the embodiment of this sentiment.

Even with his great intelligence, Fugo never found out about his s/o’s secret until they were assigned to a mission by the sea. Things went crazy in little time, the enemies were too many, a gas pipe broke and then exploded in a crimson blazed rose that put them in the corner, Purple Haze’s poison -Fugo had to call it out, or they would have died- was coming near… it was a desperate situation. The only way to escape was the sea, but would they have swimmed fast enough to not be touched by the poison? Fugo didn’t think so. It was also night, so they hadn’t the sunlight to help them… it was more than desperate. It was a certain death situation. This until his s/o dragged him in the water, down, down, swimming at inhuman speed. And it couldn’t be otherwise, Fugo noticed, widening his eyes: they had a tail instead of legs, and scales, membranes between their fingers, grills on their neck… a mermaid. They were a mermaid. And they were his precious s/o. And they were saving him. His brain needed more than one minute, even when they were now safe, to elaborate it all.

Even if his s/o’s major worry was a break between them, it didn’t happen. Fugo loved them deeply and, well, he could understand why they kept it secret, the fear to be rejected… he reassured them that he wasn’t going to leave them; being a mermaid wasn’t surely enough to scare him away, he said, making them finally laugh. He loved to see them swimming in the sea, to see them in their true form, the happiness in their face… Fugo sat on the rocks, looking at them, smiling softly when they swam near him, bringing him a pretty shell or taking him to see some particular fish. He loves to listen to their knowledge about marine life! He’d spend hours listening to them talking about the life under the sea…

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno always had a special relationship with sea. He was born in Japan, an archipelago; then he moved to Naples, a city by the sea. Sea was always present in Giorno’s life and he didn’t let a single day pass without looking at it, or, even better, without passing in front of it, deeply breathing the salty smell of water. Sometimes, if he had had a really rough day, he sad on the rocks, confiding his anguishes and fears to the sea; he ignored that the sea was indeed listening to him and that the love and care the sea felt for him were embodied in his future s/o, a mermaid who chose to bring joy in his life and to stay forever at his side.

Giorno, even if he has seen incredible things, even if he has a Requiem Stand and a Consigliere who lives in a turtle, has a bit of difficult to believe to mermaids and other legendary creatures’ existence. Another thing the young Don had difficult to do was swimming. He never properly learned how to swim and this could have been fatal, during that unfortunate mission. Giorno and his s/o were fighting side by side, but Giorno, as always, was caring more about his s/o than about himself. Seeing them being charged by an enemy, he instinctively sent Gold Experience Requiem to protect them, but, doing so, he lowered his guard and he was thrown in the sea. Giorno immediately started to reel, desperately trying to keep his face out of water, to breath, but he was panicking, there was water everywhere, he was going down and down… until he felt rightly held by a familiar embrace and then being taken away at great speed. Looking around, and gripping at the arms for his dear life, he saw that his saviour was his s/o and that they… they weren’t swimming, or, better, they weren’t swimming as a human: they had a tail and, he noticed, grills on their neck, and scales under their eyes and on their hands… in that moment, he found out and immediately accepted mermaids’ existence. How could he deny it, when he had a mermaid in front of him?

Giorno’s utterly fascinated by his s/o’s true nature. They’re so elegant, so powerful… now that he knows they’re a sea creature, he does his best to go with them on boat trips at least once a week, so they can finally stay a while in their natural habitat. He’s even willing to let them teach him to swim! So he can go with them to explore Naples’ bay sea caves, guided by his s/o. He also loves to study with them fishes, small sea creatures, other than octopuses, jellyfishes… everything about sea life fascinates him! And exploring it with his s/o makes everything more beautiful!

[darkwoods-darkdreams]

Imagine you’re a thief (IV)

You stood at the bottom of the staircase, gazing up at the doors that separated you from the outside world. It wasn’t a barrier keeping you from your freedom anymore. No, you had quickly learned that the ruin was one of the safest places in the world for you. But now you were leaving. It brought about a nervousness you hadn’t felt in a long time, not since you had first become a thief. You paused, realizing that you had been absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Rather than immediately moving your hand, your touch lingered. You weren’t sure if you were attached to your child, given you weren’t overwhelmed with pride like most mothers you had seen, but you certainly didn’t mind the changes to your body as much.

The elf finally entered the room, carrying a rather large box. Since he was meeting with his associates, you were sure that he was bringing some supplies and wares. If anyone asked for something to be made, he would be able to do so with the items he had brought.

“Forgive me, packing too longer than I expected,” He let go of the box, but it remained suspended in the air, “Are you ready to leave?”

You nodded, watching as he moved over to the nearby wardrobe and grabbed two cloaks. When the elf had first asked you to come with him, you had questioned his motives. He had let you stay in the ruins every other time he had left, but now he was changing his mind. He had merely smiled, explaining that he was worried about you, given the circumstances. He wanted to be by your side should anything happen. It was strange, to know that someone was worried about you. You had left any sort of family long ago and the feeling had become a distant memory. You never expected to feel that way again.

“The trip won’t take that long. A few days, at most,” He draped one of the cloaks over your shoulders, pulling it across your form. It hid your pregnancy quite well, despite how far along you were. However, he hesitated for a moment. The elf stared at you, as if searching for something in your expression, “…I would have liked to abandon this trip and stay here with you, but the meeting can’t be avoided so easily. Our child has grown much faster than I expected. It could be a moon from now or several moons. If anything were to happen, I would hate for you to be alone.”

You were rendered speechless at first. When the incident with the potion had first happened, he had referred to your pregnancy as a condition. He had tread so lightly and carefully around the subject. But he had changed. He had called it his child, one that the two of you shared. Your emotions got the better of you. You stepped away from him, “We should go.”

“Yes, of course,” He replied. There was no hint of regret in his words. He had meant what he said and wasn’t shying away from it. Still, his lack of pressing any further proved that he had noticed your discomfort. In fact, he seemed even more amused, since he slowly bowed in front of you and offered his hand, “Would you like some help getting up the stairs?”

You watched him at first, then sighed, “Yes,” You weren’t about to try getting up a set of old, worn stairs with added weight by yourself. You reached out to take his hand, only for him to gracefully lift you into his arms. The glare you gave him was sharp, “This isn’t what I meant.”

“Ah, no, but it was I meant,” He grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

“Farewell, master,” The stone guardian had awoken, moving closer, “And to you, mistress.”

You glanced to the elf, trying to find any sort of reaction. But he merely turned and carried you up the stairs, the floating box following closely behind. Unfortunately for him, you weren’t about to let it go unnoticed, “It’s been calling me that for a while now.”

“Has it?”

You pouted, but it was only to hide the small grin threatening to spread across your face. He was pretending to be unaware, though you knew better. Such things imbued with magic were set to a strict set of rules. It wouldn’t have changed its opinion of you unless the elf had told it to do so. He liked to tease you, but he was prone to sentimentalities that you could use to your own advantage.

He set you down inside of the boat, then climbed in himself. The box landed gently between you. The elf waved his hand and the boat began moving on its own at a reasonable pace.

You looked out at the horizon briefly, then returned your attention to the elf, “I thought that you used portals to get around.”

“Usually, yes. But that magic is not tolerated well by everyone, especially those with child.”

“What would have happened?” You couldn’t help but be curious. You were still wary of magic, though being around the elf had lessened your fear towards simpler spells.

“You would have felt rather ill. The nausea would have lasted for hours, if not days. I think you’ve dealt with that sort of symptom enough.”

You sighed, not wanting to think about how horrible your morning sickness had been before it disappeared.

“But that sort of reaction happens to everyone. In your case, our child would have been quite restless afterward.”

“Oh,” You had expected something far more dangerous. You had felt a bit of squirming and kicking every once in a while. It had surprised you at first, but it then became yet another common occurrence. Still, his explanation made it apparent that he was avoiding magic for the sake of your comfort and safety, “…Thank you.”

He said nothing, though you could tell from the way that he leaned back and grinned that he was pleased.

Your destination, which the elf explained was a secluded meeting place for what used to be a large group of elven mages. Due to the tense relations between elves and humans, the number of people who knew of the location was limited. You didn’t understand why he trusted you with such information, given your being human, but he still insisted that you go with him rather than waiting at an inn.

You walked alongside him, though you moved closer and placed your hand in the crook of his elbow as the crowd thickened. You didn’t want to get separated in a city that you had never been to before, let alone one that had so many royal guards stationed every few buildings.

The reaction to your gesture was almost immediate. Two women that you walked by paled and began whispering to each other. Your instincts as a thief begged for you to separate yourself from the elf and head off in a different direction to avoid raising suspicion. You were wearing clothing covered in elven symbols. You were clearly human, and yet you were heavily involved with someone that wasn’t. You swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to run. Instead, you spared a glance toward the elf. He hadn’t made any effort to disguise his appearance. His hair was pushed away from his face, keeping his pointed ears uncovered. He walked with the same regality that he always did, a gait that was visibly noticeable compared to everyone else bustling through the streets. You wondered if he didn’t care because he could protect himself with magic, or if knew that carrying himself a certain way would keep him safe.

You tried to refocus on the path in front of you, but the elf gently stopped you. You paused, about to ask why, only to see that he was looking at a young girl selling crowns made of flowers and other trinkets in front of a bakery.

He approached her, bowing slightly, “May I buy one of these from you?”

The girl hesitated, clearly not used to seeing elves. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest, knowing that you used to be the same way. She looked to you for a moment, then nodded.

He gave her some money, then took one of the crowns. He turned to you with a smile, setting the flowers upon your head, “Perfect.”

You laughed a bit, reaching up to touch the flowers. You didn’t recognize half of them. Perhaps they were only found in or around the city, “Is this really necessary?” You teased.

“Of course,” He quipped, “Elves only give the best of offerings to their goddesses.”

You opened your mouth to give a witty remark in return, only to notice the same women from before. They had been following you, though they were keeping their distance. They had abandoned whispering to each other. They were talking quite loudly, obviously wanting to be heard.

“Look at them. Disgusting.”

“She’s carrying that thing’s spawn. She’s probably under some spell. No one in their right mind would do such a thing.”

“Giving life to Halflings. This town is becoming a breeding ground for filth.”

Your grip tightened on the elf’s arm. Lifting your arm had parted the cloak, revealing your swollen belly. You quickly returned your arm to your side and stepped forward to berate them, only for him to step in front of you. He leaned down, kissing you. You immediately withdrew, about to argue until he kissed you again. You sighed, holding his shoulders, “Enough. I’m going to tear them apart.”

“Cerbin,” He blocked your path again, the corner of his mouth pulled upwards. He took your hand, kissing the back of it as his eyes shone with mirth, “Relax. This alone makes their blood boil. Anything you say to them now will only make things escalate.”

You scowled, “They have no right to-“

“Yes, I know,” His lips brushed against your cheek, then your jaw, “Come. We’ll be late, otherwise.”

You reluctantly walked away with him, refusing to look back.

The mages’ meeting place was in a rather expensive looking building. On the outside, it seemed like a high-class inn. However, upon the elf using a spell to get inside, you discovered that the interior was heavily influenced by elven culture. You followed him, but caught yourself pausing to marvel at all of the designs and objects on display. You would have to ask him for a tour when you had the time.

The largest room housed a massive table, several chairs already filled with other mages. Most of them wore elven clothes, though some had made a point to look more human. Still, you couldn’t tell if it was out of personal preference or for the sake of their own safety. When you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted by everyone staring at you.

One mage, who was wearing traditional clothes, stood abruptly, “An’givare! How dare you, Gvalch?!”

“She is not a spy,” He replied as he brought you chair of your own, “Nor am I a traitor. I brought her here for her own safety.”

“What is she to you, then?” Another asked.

“Me minne,” The elf you knew as Gvalch sat down next to you, crossing one leg over the other, “An aen modron me wedd.”

You couldn’t piece together what he was saying. He rarely spoke in anything but the common tongue unless he was performing magic. You didn’t know if he was using the language in order to keep his colleagues from being offended or to keep it a secret from you. However, you could tell from the reactions of the others that he had revealed something important.

“She has done nothing to betray my trust since I’ve known her. She has no ill will towards us.”

“Regardless, she is human.”

“If you’re telling her to go, then I will also take my leave.”

The others exchanged glances, some of them visibly sighing. It seemed that, with the few mages still left, they couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.

“Fine, she is permitted to stay,” Who you guessed was the leader spoke up, turning his attention to you, “Though I’m sure you understand that nothing that is said here can be repeated elsewhere.”

“I understand,” You bowed slightly in your chair. Even if you wanted to, there was no one for you to tell. You never worked with anyone. Any friends or family were long gone.

The meeting lasted for hours. It was a fury of the common tongue, several elven dialects, and other languages you had never heard before. You waited patiently, quite entertained when they spoke in the one language you understood. Every so often, the elf would stop paying attention to whoever was speaking in order to check on you. He would smile, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. He was still so openly affectionate, even when most of the others didn’t approve.

You made it back to the inn you had stopped at to deposit your belongings. You sat down on the bed as the elf sorted through the luggage. You watched him for a moment, only to notice you were still wearing the flower crown. After gently removing it, you looked over the various flora. The situation you were both in was much more complicated than you had realized. You had spent so much time in the ruin that you had forgotten about how much the majority of humans and elves hated each other. No matter where you went, there would always be someone who disagreed with the two of you living together.

“About what happened today, with those women,” You looked up, “That happens often, doesn’t it?”

“Occasionally,” He replied, “But I’ve learned that ignoring them is the best course of action. In my youth, I used to confront them. I’ve had to avoid being tied to a pyre several times.”

You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t imagine living such a life. Most cities and towns were filled with humans. Only small villages and secluded areas were home to elves, unless they were influential enough to remain untouched around humans.

“Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.”

“I’m more worried about you,” You countered. You refused to make this about yourself.

“Nothing will happen to me, either,” He sat down next to you, casting you a soft grin, “Though I appreciate the concern.”

“Isn’t there a way to fix it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I would never ask you to become human,” You began, “But what if I-“

“No,” His answer held no harshness, though you could tell there was nothing that could sway him.

“It would be easier, wouldn’t it? You’re one of the best mages in that group, surely you would be capable of such a thing.”

He reached out, brushing your hair away from your face, “Even if I were capable of tearing the skies open and destroying every star, I would not change you.”

“Because you can’t disrupt nature.”

“Because I love you as you are,” He replied, “And I find your curved ears and cuspids quite adorable.”

“You like my pointed teeth?” You laughed a bit.

“Yes, but if I had to choose a trait that I admired the most, it would be your ferocity. You are unafraid. You wanted to confront those women. Even I’ve been taken aback several times by you, especially when we first made our agreement. You must be a formidable thief, when you are not hindered by magic.”

Yet again, you were rendered speechless by his eloquence. You had always brushed off his comments as just a part of his teasing nature, but you couldn’t ignore it anymore. He loved you, it wasn’t just for the sake of wit.

He turned to you, “The potion from that night, I believe it’s finally worked its way out of your system. You’re no longer a servant to your own arousal.”

He was right. You hadn’t asked him for anything since you left the ruins. Your mind was so much clearer than it used to be. You felt like your old self again. You rested your chin on his shoulder, holding his arm to your chest, “Could we? Sleep together, I mean.”

The elf looked at you, unable to hide his smile, “It would be disgraceful of me to refuse a request from my goddess.”

The travel back to the ruins took much longer than expected. As you made your way with the elf back to the boats, discomfort was beginning to impact your movement. You had nearly doubled over in pain when getting into the boat, your stomach and back aching. You had brushed it off, pretending that it was just the child kicking a tender spot. However, you knew that it more than just idle movement. You had never truly experienced someone else giving birth, let alone yourself, but you knew that was what your body was working towards. Even so, you kept quiet. Every wince was masked as fidgeting. Every moan was swallowed. When your water broke, it was hidden by the seawater that occasionally splashed into the boat.

However, the pain was becoming too great. The shore and the entrance to the ruins were visible, but you couldn’t hold out any longer. You gripped the side of the boat, whimpering.

“Cerbin?” The elf stared at you, his concern evident, “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“I-I think I’m…” You placed a hand over your stomach, wishing the pain would stop.

You didn’t need to say anything more. When the boat reached the shore, the elf was already standing. He helped you step out, quickly lifting you into his arms. He abandoned his supplies, carrying you down the stairs and into your bedroom. He placed you on the bed, but never stepped away. He brushed your hair from your face, kissing the back of your hand.

“Gvalch,” You tensed, the pain worse than anything you had ever felt before. You gripped the sheets, trying to ground yourself as another contraction started.

“I’m right here, my love,” He kissed your forehead, then moved to the end of the bed, helping you with your skirt and smallclothes.

As soon as you were able, you spread your legs. You could feel the child moving downwards, causing your back to arch. Your cries became louder. You shut your eyes, holding your breath as you pushed. You gasped for breath, falling back against the bed. The entire process was exhausting. You had no idea how you would keep going. Tears blurred your vision, spilling from your eyes and wetting your hair. You were in so much pain, “I can’t…I’m so sorry.”

The elf returned to your side, taking your hand. He didn’t pull away, even as you gripped his hand to point that you were sure he was in pain. He watched you, eyes wide. He was horrified, and at a complete loss as to what he should do. He seemed torn between helping you give birth and comforting you. He whispered something that sounded like elven. At first, you thought it was some sort of prayer to the elven gods. He never seemed like a devout believer in such things.

However, as your pain was suddenly washed away by a feeling of slight cold, you realized that it was a spell. You turned to him, “Was that…a spell?” You watched him, worried that he knew something you didn’t, “I thought you said you didn’t disrupt nature.”

“I know,” He sighed, “I just…Seeing you in agony is unbearable. Forgive me, I can take away the pain, but I cannot make this any easier for you. Any other spell could bring consequences for both of you.”

Your womb tensing caused no pain, only a pressure that made you curse under your breath. The child shifted again, the feeling of such fullness bringing the urge to squirm. You remained still, trying to focus on something, anything else. With another push, you felt its head crowding against your entrance. You let go of the elf’s hand, “Go, it’s-“

He hesitated, as if he wanted to stay by your side, but moved to the end of the bed. He placed his hands on your thighs, pushing your legs back. It took away some of the pressure, though most of it remained, “You’re almost there.”

You nodded, gathering what strength you had left. Thankfully, you felt the child make some progress. It must have been enough, since the elf gently guided it the rest of the way. The hollowness was strange, especially when you had grown so attached. The rest was easier, especially when you finally heard the baby crying. You forced yourself to sit up, only for a wave of dizziness to overtake you.

The elf stood, cradling the child in his arm despite all of the blood and other fluids staining his clothes. He nudged you softly to one side, “You should rest. You’ve been through quite the ordeal. I’ll take care of everything.”

You blinked tiredly, carefully lying down on the bed and closing your eyes.

When you awoke, you weren’t sure how much time had passed. You sat up, noticing that you were in different clothes. The bedding had been changed. A gurgling sound made you look up. The elf had brought his chair from the study, sitting next to the bed with the child wrapped in soft fabrics. You watched, not saying anything at first. It was so small. You couldn’t believe something so tiny could survive, and yet it was right in front of you.

“Me minne,” The elf smiled, “You’re awake.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Not long,” He rose from the chair, as graceful as ever, “Would you like to hold them?”

You nodded immediately, reaching out to take the small bundle into your arms. When you had first entered the ruins in search of something to steal, you never would have expected to be in such a situation. But you weren’t the same person anymore. So much had changed.

“She’s beautiful,” He sat down once more, giving you time to have the child to yourself, “Just like her mother.”

A girl. And he was right, she was as adorable. It reminded you of the fairytales about cute princesses. You moved the blanket a bit, smiling when you saw that she had pointed ears, “Looks like she didn’t inherit everything from me.”

“Who knows, she might still have pointed teeth,” He teased in response. He crossed one leg over the other, content with watching, “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” You shook your head, “Just a bit tired, but I can sleep later,” You looked up at him, though you absentmindedly stroked her soft cheeks with your fingertips, “Are there any other names for birds in your language?”

“Ah, let me see,” He pondered it for a moment, “Zireael is the term we use for a swallow,” He tilted his head to one side, “Is that what you want to name her?”

“Yes. I like it for a girl’s name,” You paused, remembering that you didn’t know each other’s real names. Gvalch was just an alias. Cerbin was just what he called you, “Um, about my name, it’s _____,” You weren’t sure if he wanted to know. Even if he didn’t, you had spent so much time with him. It was something he deserved to know.

He grinned, repeating it. It sounded so much nicer with his voice and accent than it did from a human mouth, “It suits you, though you’ll always be my Cerbin,” He moved closer, sitting beside you, “Would you like to know my name, then?”

“Of course,” You replied, “It’s only fair.”

He leaned down, whispering his true name into your ear. It sounded like that of some ancient king, but he always reminded you of that sort. His name only proved his natural regality and poise. You murmured the name, trying to match the pronunciation. Still, you had a hard time imagining him as anything other than Gvalch.

He withdrew from you, though an expression flickered across his features that you weren’t used to seeing on him. He bowed slightly, “Now that you’ve given birth, I would like to offer you another choice. Before I explain and you decide, I want you to know that I bear you no ill will regardless of what you choose,” He said that, but you had gotten used to knowing when he was lying, “You’ve been a thief for over half of your life. I understand if it’s difficult to leave that sort of lifestyle. If you desire it, you’re free to leave with or without the child.”

You stared at him. He was still offering you a choice. He truly believed in free will. It was strange to have someone with so much power and influence at your feet.

He knelt before you, “However, you are more than welcome to stay. You wouldn’t be able to continue with your previous work, but I promise that you will never want for anything. You or Zireael. I love you both dearly. You are more than anything I could ever ask the gods for. No spell or magic could have brought me someone like you,” His voice cracked. He was overwhelmed, a man at risk of losing everything important in his life, “Please, Cerbin. If you love me, stay with me.”

You smiled, leaning forward and kissing him, “Am I still a raven if I don’t admire shiny objects?”

He kissed you once more, withdrawing with a wide grin, “You’ve stolen much more than a phylactery from me, me minne.”

An’givare – spy/traitor

Me minne – my love

An aen modron me wedd – and the mother of my child

[ibitchytimemachine]

Chapters: 53/? Fandom: Dragon Ball Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con Summary:

With Earth destroyed, Bulma and the Z gang find themselves in an outer space guerilla war against a tyrant. The mysterious Vengeance seems to be the only hope to win the war against Frieza, but teaming up with him brings its own set of problems.

 AU, ensemble cast but with focus on BV. Several other pairings (m/F and m/m) and non-romantic relationships get significant screen time.

While Vengeance often appears to be a light-hearted, funny story, there are darker elements running through several storylines. Warnings of non-con are for isolated incidents and don't reflect the story as a whole, but explicit descriptions of sex, violence, and general depravity are contained within these chapters.

Of all the Vegebul fics I have read, this one is easily my favorite. It has nuance, gives (almost) every character full and rich motivations and story lines. You find yourself rooting for the oddest pairs and weirdest people. I can not recommend this story enough, and if you wanna read my thoughts on it, lets dive into spoilers below the cut! 

So this story has something for everyone. You want thick well thought out and executed plot? DONE! Humor? DONE! Large cast of characters, both canon and OC who are all pretty well flushed out? DONE! Smut? Name your poison, chances are, its in here. There is so much about this story that I love that I am struggling with exactly the best way to organize my thoughts. So instead of agonizing over it, instead I am just gonna throw away all my careful notes that I have taken during my read and just freaking ramble! 

I think the first thing that people are a little put off on is the rare pair of RaditzXPuar. I will tell you that I 5,000 percent ship these two and it is all because of reading this fic. I love it so much that I MAY have even taken some time to draw my own fan art for the pair, but lets just leave THAT in the vaults xD When Raditz first encounters Puar, he is NOT a cat. Puar is in a Human form and is shifted to be Bulma. Raditz immediately is attracted to Puar’s scent and when they later encounter each other in a bar and end up ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ ) Ray is still just enamored by Puar’s scent. Whenever we see Rays POV in-between the time that Ray has fucked Human Puar, and the time that Puar is discovered, Ray keeps catching scents of the cat. And it drives him fucking wild. He later says that he is so crazy for Puar that he was about to fuck a houseplant cause it reminded him of Puar. Beyond that we get the backstory on Bonding and that basically Saiyans bond to a mate kinda at random so Ray has basically taken Puar as his husband. Raditz is really a great lover, there is a relationship imbalance between the two, but Ray doesnt take advantage of it. Its really a pretty healthy relationship. Puar gets jealous of some stuff, Ray gets WAY jealous of stuff but they always seem to talk it over. Shit at one point Ray dreams of having kids with Puar, and he is swiftly reminded that Puar is a MAN and will never be and never wants to be a WOMAN. 

A huge part of me feels like this Puarditz pairing is commentary on identity, self acceptance and love. Ray is constantly telling Puar that he doesnt care what his body looks like (except that he is excited to see Puar has a tail), only that it is Puar that he is in love with. It is only Puar Ray wants, no matter if he is a human, cat, plant, screwdriver or anything else. Puar talks about how he feels weird in his cat body, but it is his natural form and he wants to change and be bigger, more menacing, or just different. And I think we can all appreciate that sentiment at some point in our lives, but I can also see this as a low key message about trans acceptance and its fucking beautiful. Hell even Bulma tells Puar that he should take whatever form he is most comfortable in and basically fuck everyone who disagrees. I love that message and I love this pair - fight me. 

I really want to talk about another pretty complex character in this fic, Zarbon. He struggles with so much shame and negativity in this story. He hides behind his good looks and his hair, and when that shit gets cut off, Zarbon is a completely different man, it is shedding his old evil skin and literally growing into his own as a new man, a better person, and you start to care about him. His time with Frieza has basically ruined his ability to have any sort of healthy relationship - friend or other, because he resorts to sex for just about any close relationship he has. The FIRST person he meets after being rescued from Frieza, he starts bedding. Hell he promises a pity fuck to Burter for rescuing him, and come on.. I have never wanted a Burger sex scene more than when I was reading this fic. No really... Catgirl has a way of making you root for just about everyone... I think  that besides the slavers, the only character I HATE is Frieza, and thats pretty cool. AND Speaking of Frieza, shit hes a bad dude in this story. There aren't many POVs of him, and we see a lot of Frieza through Zarbon, Vegeta and Burter, but the POVs after Zarbon escapes and Frieza is trying to replace him is she fucked up shit. You really see his madness when he is sitting in the bloody tub stroking the hair of the dead attendant wishing it was Zarbons. He repeatedly states how much he gave to Zarbon, and how he basically loved him, but then you see him torture the poor man, sexually assault him, and generally just be a complete tyrannical asshole to him. 

The way the Nameks are handled is really cool. I love the nod to canon with them living with the Briefs on Red Station, I love watching Dende figure out how to lead, and struggle with his followers. I love how he makes the decision to room with Gohan as a way of bridging the gap between the Namekians and the Saiyans. The decisions Dende makes shows that he is dedicated to moving forward and not being stuck in the past. But you see him still struggling with things in the past, Zarbon for example. it is hella tense for a while when he first comes aboard because Dende feels Zarbon is responsible for the demise of his people, and Dende seeks out others help and advice on how to manage his feelings. He gets several peoples views and chooses what he thinks is the best, just like a good leader would. He even attempts to make Piccolo feel more welcome in the Namekian contingent of beings on Red Station.

Nappa is a super important character for the beginning of the story. He is the voice of Saiyan past and he advises Vegeta, wether he takes the advice or not. Overall he is the Father figure Vegeta needs (a common role for him) but he tells Vegeta and Raditz about bonding and Gohan comments that it sounds like LOVE. Nappa has some really shitty moments with Bulma, but overall I really like the sweet peeks into his head, when he thinks about his dead wife and babies, or when he tears up about the thought of Bulma and Vegeta having “little princes” of their own, is just heartwarming. And the attraction to Momma Briefs is cute and funny and provides so much ammunition for Bulma to hate Nappa (and boy do they hate each other)

I kinda hate how K18 gets treated in this story, and part of that is how long it takes for 18 to come about, and another part of that is the fact that the story isn't finished. I feel like 18′s android qualities are REALLY played up, which isn't a bad thing - great characterization in fact... but poor Krillin deserves so much better than being mounted with no foreplay and then immediately being engaged... Now I will say that I really like both of these characters in this fic, just wish things were finished cause their relationship has so much more to explore. 

I have both love and hate the Vegebul relationship dynamics in this story. They obviously care for one another, but the relationship seems super unhealthy... there is really no talking, relationship building going on in story. a LOT of fucking sure, but it almost feels like these two banter, fuck but don't really know one another.. and thats kinda sad.. I like that part of a Vegebul fic. Bulma is legit scared of Vegeta on multiple occasions and even in the last published chapter Vegeta looks at her and thinks that she is a monster just like him. And hell with her improvements to the Ki Circlet, she probably is. I will say that their smut is A++ fantastic, it is real, sometimes it is awkward (when they fuck in her lab it is both hot and funny) and there is always a mention of safe sex. 

With all the time spent on, pretty much everyone, including 2 OCs, it is sad that 17, Dr. Briefs and Tien don't get a little more love. They have very very brief scenes peppered throughout the story, and they just seem like after thoughts.. Shit Roshi and Oolong have more impact on the story than any of these three do and thats just a bummer. I am gonna say that maybe they have parts in the unwritten bots of the fic, but who knows if it will ever be updated, much less finished at this point. 

This story is fantastic. I can not recommend it enough. The relationship dynamics alone are fantastic, never mind the fact that Catgirl is FUCKING FANTASTIC at showing not telling, but even when she tells it is impactful. She has a wonderful grasp of character voice and each POV feels like it is actually that characters POV, told through them, not through the lens of a narrator. There are some amazing quotes in this story, some are just funny, 

Others.. Not so much.... 

These are a bunch of misfits thrown together, fighting to survive, and ultimately building a home. Hell Zarbon sees it and is shocked by it.. He says he is amazed by Vegeta “Floating around this country cottage of a ship, lord and master of an assortment of weaklings.” And Zarbon is right. Vegeta is the lord and master of this rag tag crew, and Bulma is their Queen. Their relationship is the glue that holds this little family together. This story is a tale of their struggle to defeat Frieza, but thats not what this story is ABOUT. This story is about, family, friends, love, home and ultimately all the wholesome things humanity has to offer. Sometimes we fuck up, and fight and create drama, but we persevere through those trials and (hopefully) become stronger, more well rounded and more human. And that is a really nice message. 

As a bonus, @rutbisbe drew this amazing Puar/Raditz fan art for this fic and I love it (AND I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

If you liked this review, after you check this fic out, head over to my A03 and read some of my stuff!

[aggresivelyfriendly]

~Meet Me In The Hallway~

Chapter 22-Turbulence

“Get up!” Michael kicked the end of my bed and the shake was enough to rouse me from my slumber. I’d stayed up late, hoping that Harry would call me. But, just like all the nights this week, my phone had not rang, and the lack of that sound was deafening. His texting had fallen away too; it had been several days since we had had any form of communication at all. His answers to my mundane questions, a line with a dead worm on the end for all their usefulness as bait, were one word often, and his most common sentiment was that he was tired, not that he missed me. When I first made it home, after my two day coma, he was full of rings and tings. My phone went off a lot I thought, so much that my mom actually seemed really irritated by its interruptions of family dinners. “You two have been running around the world for months, the least you could give me is a few meals with your cell phones safely away in your bloody rooms!” She’d griped as she loaded up my plate with grilled meat. I could tell she had went to trouble with this meal. The pineapple salsa she had on the side was my favorite. So I didn’t answer the phone. It pained me, but it was one of the few calls that I missed. Harry, I tried to understand, had to press the shady button more often. With the time zones and their scheduled I got it. Then the calls started to dwindle. And self doubt crept in. As time wore me out, I wasn’t sure if he was avoiding me, or just didn’t really want to talk to me. Over the weeks, my urge to press his contact name and hear his voice was overrun with anxiety. When I stopped calling, he did too. Or maybe I had done most of the calling and was just too excited and enamored to notice it. He did text me back, though I was sick to death of waiting until he could send me short responses. I was sick to death of waiting. I just, I missed him. And he didn’t seem to miss me.

I sat in my room with an empty journal on my lap the night before my rude awakening and just wondered if I had imagined his interest. He had all but said it. And he had shown me that he cared for me, wanted me, implied he loved me. A world away though all I could ask was why. He had the world, and its female population, with a hearty dose of the male too, at his feet. What would he want with one girl? What would he want with me? The seesaw we were on was as dizzying as the tilt a whirl, and I had promised myself that if I didn’t hear from him soon, I’d let it go. I’d let him go. I didn’t want to be a burden. I must be, if the weight of calling me was too heavy, how would all of the massive things that I dreamed about feel across his shoulders, no matter how broad. I wanted more than morning cuddles. I wanted more than him calling me baby. I wanted more than shared meals. I wanted the shared life he had mentioned. I wanted more. I wanted. But maybe he didn’t. In the moments where he had a willing girl, increasingly naked and eager in his bed, no wonder he had imagined his interest in me. Or worse feigned it. And he, a very red blooded male, who was very active I knew for a fact before I invaded his bed, of course availed himself of my offer. Though in the waning hours of the night, when the world and my thoughts were darkest I wished he had been a little more selfless and given a care before he took–before he took me. I felt like I’d been taken. Like he owned me, body and soul, and I had been a distraction at best. A warm body at worst. It was wretched. So, in the interest of self preservation and fear, I decided I’d make myself scarce. Stay away for this final little leg of Oceania, and resurrect all those plans I had for my life before I was monogrammed HS. I’d made a plan. I’d written it all down last night. Hair at the hotel, come home and sleep here when possible. Do not watch the concerts, avoid all mentions of Harry Styles. Make a female friend. Learn to date boys who didn’t set me and the world on fire. Actually find a boy to who wanted to date me, instead of have me secretly warm his bed. This list became very useful when I actually implemented it years later, though it went to waste upon its initial creation, because my brother had other ideas for my day and the Aus section of the tour. "Wake up Melly!” This time he was not having my grogginess as he yelled at me. “Jeezus!” I kicked at him as he started pulling the blankets off the bed. “What do you want, ass face?” “I want you to come with me! The boys asked for you and you have been even more of a hermit than usual, so you are going to come with me and act like a human and see people!” He widened his eyes at me. “Now, go shower, you look like shit!” “Stop trying to pull my blankets off! I’m naked under here!” I squealed when I threw myself over the blanket about to be coldly removed from my body. My bare ass on display was better than a full frontal shot I figured. And he was a irritation I wanted gone. Maybe I’d fall back to sleep. “Since when do you sleep naked, prude?” he questioned. Since Harry I thought. It simplified things in the mornings. And I loved those mornings in LA. I’d adopted the habit and learned to love the feeling of crisp sheets over my bare body. The few times a video chat had happened, my naked state had been expedient. Maybe I did it out of hope. I figured I was safe then as he’d stopped pulling my shelter away. But he ripped it off me this time. “I don’t care about your ass, I’ve seen it before, though it as a lot smaller then! You are coming with! If I have to drag you! So make yourself presentable.” Looking back maybe Michael wasn’t as clueless as Harry and I thought. He was dead set on me going with and it was Harry who had asked for me, I guess. I was so wrapped in my thoughts I had missed a few key facts in my stripping though. "Oi,” I called  after him, “where are we going!” Making my way with a towel wrapped around me to the shower. Michael came out of nowhere then, and shoved me into the bathroom. “The 1D boys have made it! I want to see everybody, and they asked for you, lord knows why, so shower, stank!” “Don’t call me that!” I shouted. I’d hated that when I was little. He gave me such a complex about the way I smelled at one point that I developed a rash from too frequent bathing. I lingered so long over my ablutions trying to put off the inevitable and squelch my hope in the face of expected heartbreak, that Michael basically banged in the door until I came out and kept juggling my door knob until I got dressed. “Fuck off, I’m ready now, ass!” I seethed! I had no idea how I was going to handle being in a car with him for half hour at least. “Finally!” He about faced and expected me to trail after him. I did. “No idea why Harry asked for you! Unpleasant snatch!” “Language!”’ my mom said while Michael grabbed the keys to his brand new car. “Don’t talk to your sister like that. "Thank Mummy,” I played my baby sister role up while my brother apologized, to mum, not me, and we headed down the drive. The ride was not as bad as it could have been. My brother immediately put on a playlist and turned it up. So I was free to go over all of my mistakes with Harry and personal flaws in peace.  I even nodded off once we got past the traffic and I was shaken awake, though this time more gently. Another beautiful hotel, made plain by comparison to so many others, greeted us. The lobby was expansive and I felt like we were in a convention center type place by the time we reached the damask wallpapered elevator. My feet were aching even in my trainers, but not as much as my belly. With each floor up, my heart sunk a little deeper. It was surely in the subterranean parking garage by the time we got off the elevator, to Niall riding a segue down the hallway with a beer in each hand. “Nialler!” Michael shouted and Niall stood straight up and hit a button with his elbow without spilling a drink. The momentary distraction from my downward spiral was welcome. I partook in the high fives he doled out at our awe. He’d handed us each a beer. I handed mine back. “Michael and Melly! I love that you all make me say mmmmm!! Come on,“ he lead us away, "everybody but Harry is in here,” he shoved open a door and music floated out. “Let me text him, he made a big stink about me letting him know when the big red dogs arrived!” He drunkenly laughed at his own joke and pulled the hair on Michael’s head I had dyed red recently. I loved how merry he was. It was hard to be angsty around Niall. I figured I’d have to bask in sunshine if Harry shut me in the dark. It might be the only way I was gonna survive this party, and apparently it was a party. There were drinks flowing and I made my way over to where Niall had plopped down and grabbed an acoustic guitar with yet another beer by his side. He hugged my head. A couple people had wandered over to say hello and I was chatting with Lottie about a new strobing technique she had learned when I felt him come in. All the hairs on my arms were stood up and I wasn’t sure if I was in the middle of a romance novel or horror film. I kept myself turned away, I wasn’t eager to find out what tropes I’d be party to. Would I my find myself watching the sunset from a balcony or have my heart ripped out? Would Harry be my romantic lead or my nightmare? When I heard his voice nearby me, saying Michael’s name, I couldn’t help but look up. He was locked in some bro hug type thing with my brother. But he was looking at me. He looked like shit. His eyes were red and bleary and his nose was swollen and his skin was pasty, patchy and pale. I’d never seen him look so unhealthy. “Harry!” I called before I got ahold of myself. Even if I was hurt by his casual disregard, I was so concerned about how miserable he looked I just couldn’t keep the edge out of my voice. No one seemed to notice my solicitude, save Niall who gave me a curious look. And Harry, whose face brightened and tried to smile before he grimaced and had a coughing fit. Once he was done hacking up a lung, he came over to me and I nearly tripped over my own feet to stand when he got close enough. I leaned forward immediately and his hand caught my shoulder before I could wrap my arms around him. My face must have fallen. “Don’t hug me, I’m poorly!” he cautioned. I threw that caution at the wind and wound my arms around his neck and buried my nose into his neck and sniffed until I could smell him under the Mentholatum and tea. “You let Michael hug you,” I chided into his neck. “I don’t care if Michael gets sick.” He clinched me a little tighter and whispered “missed you,” before pulling back mouthing ‘so much’ at me. My belly warmed, and I smiled big at him. He grinned back at me and I was willing to forgive his silence, so soon, forgive him even indifference if he stayed near me. Our staring contest was going a little long and I’m sure my eyes had stars in them. Harry seemed to catch himself, and he averted his gaze and sent a knee in Niall’s direction and they started to talk about plans. “You going to the beach?” Harry scraped out over the gravel in his throat while Niall pretended to be a Jedi for having blocked his knee. “Yeah, sounds like good craic and Ashton insists you can’t come to Australia and not do beach stuff. That true?” He directed at me and it took me a moment to realize he was addressing me. He was looking at me, but I was looking at Harry. “What?” I glanced at Niall. “I asked if you were coming to the beach with us?” That didn’t sound quite right, but I could see a knowledge around the edges of his smile that I didn’t like. Niall either suspected us or thought I, like so many others, had developed a bit of a crush on Mr. Styles. Which I guess had a grain of truth in it at least. But, even someone’s uninformed opinion qualifying our relationship in such a simplistic way was insulting to me. I didn’t have a crush and whatever it was that I had was requited. I thought. I hoped. “Um, no yeah?” I answered and the distraction in my voice was so obvious I might as well have been a small child licking an ice cream instead of listening to a calling parent. I shook myself slightly. “Yeah, I’m always up for the beach,” kind of a lie. “When are we going?” I looked at both of them. “Whenever this arseface gets better!” Niall mock punched Harry’s stomach. “You are the weakest wanker, been sick for at least a week and almost didn’t make the plane here.” “Heeeey!” Harry whined. “How sick are you?” I looked at his red rimmed eyes while he picked his chapped lower lip. “I’m better!” He protested and Niall coughed. “Yeah, in that you are upright, doc almost didn’t let him on the plane. Never seen you raise hell like that before Harry! Guess you really wanted to make it to Oz.” Niall looked at both of us and I wanted to be embarrassed, but I was so hopeful that I was why he wanted to make it on that plane and he was so sick he couldn’t get ahold of me, or didn’t want to worry me, or…. I needed to stop making excuses for him, but I just wanted to wrap him up in blankets and make him tea and toast. “I need another beer,” Niall got up and I noticed his glass was half full and quirked a brow, but Harry just smiled and shook his head before taking Niall’s spot, moving like a man of 80 not a boy not yet 20. “Ughhh,” he blew out and rested his head against the back of the couch. I raked my eyes over him, I’d missed looking at him, and I knew my gaze lingered entirely to long, someone would notice, but I wanted to drink him in from a fire hydrant, even when he looked like- “You look like shit!” I said and was surprised by the tinge of anger present in my voice. Good, I still had a backbone somewhere. He rolled his head my way, “Yeah, cheers, feel like it too.” He coughed suddenly. “What’s wrong with you?” I started to move my idle hands from my lap, but caught them and looked around the crowded hotel room. “You should be in bed.” “Have been, for days, I think I slept most of this week. Doctor said flu,” he looked at me regretfully and I wondered if words of apology would cross his downturned mouth too. “Go back to bed, Harry.” I decided to flex my vertebrae and went to stand, but he caught my hand, quickly, and I looked back at him. His mouth was pursed, lips thin and he looked peaky and pitiful, and my spine compressed. “Will you come with me? Meet me?” He inclined his head to the hallway. “Missed you, um, would really like a cuddle.” He forced a dimple and dissolved into another coughing fit. I sat back down and angled my body to hide the hands we still had joined. “Were you too sick to call me?” Slipped out weakly and I wanted to bite my tongue off and spit it out, traitorous slip. He nodded, “I have been, before that, we were just so crazy just, with the movie and like interviews—” “Too busy to even say hi?” I stared at our hands where he was rubbing my knuckles. “Please come back to our room,” my head jumped up, “and let me explain! I feel shit and just could, look,” he coughed again, “please, cuddle me.” God, I hated that I loved him right then. But, I nodded and raised my eyebrows. His lips quirked gratefully, maybe in triumph and I wanted to leave him alone in that hallway, but I knew I wouldn’t. “Five minutes?” I hated how little it took for me to give in, just the happy look on his poor little face turned me inside out. I was a jellyfish, no bones to speak of at all. I nodded and bit my lip and he got up, looking at me for a long moment before he left me alone on the couch, trusting that I would follow. The last time I had followed him out of a hotel room congregation had been with light feet and a hopeful heart. This time, I could feel a seed of resentment sprouting in my heart, but I went, because i was only aware the thing was beating when he helped me remember it was present in my chest. After some furtive glances and a surety that no one was watching, I made it to the door, and down the corridor, this one with more of the textured wall paper from the lobby. The walls were red and black and lush. As overwrought and baroque as my little feelings. Big feelings, really. All of my feeling surrounding Harry were huge-tidal, and weighty, apparently even my disappointment. This time, he wasn’t hiding out in a room to pull me into his arms and a celebratory kiss. Harry was waiting in the hallway, proverbial hat in his hands. He’d even clasped them together in front of him, like he was waiting for the rap of my ruler over his knuckles. If that had made me feel better, I might have done it, if it were on the table. He would have let me. I could tell he felt guilty just looking at his snotty face. But I didn’t want him hurting, which he clearly was with his sickness, and I had no desire to do the hurting. “Baby–” he started and I held up my hand. “Baby? Really?” I scoffed a little, some sass was left in me yet. He narrowed his eyes a moment, “I’m not allowed to call you baby when you are mad at me? I’m also not allowed to say your name I think, when I’ve hurt you, if I remember correctly. So what am I supposed to call you?” People in New Zealand could hear my eye roll. "don’t be petulant, Harry. Let’s go back to your room, unless you want to do this in the hallway?” “Do what? Are you breaking up with me?” He extended his hand and flashed them out, like magician showing he didn’t have a magical object. “Breaking up what? We aren’t together, even!” My voice went up an octave on that one. He drew his neck back and squinted at me, “We’re not? You sleep with boys you aren’t with, Mel?” Oh I was gonna kill him. “Not your business if I do.” His jaw expanded at that and he started walking and all the air went out of me faster than an unplugged bounce house. He caught my hand on his way and pulled me, quickly swiping his key across the sensor until it said go and he pushed in with me trailing behind him. He turned then, his face a little red, not from rough tissue. “We!” He motioned between us. “Are together, ok?” It was somewhere between a question and a command and my head spun like a top. “Huh?” I stared at him slack jawed. “Melody,” his voice softened considerably, but he still has a tinge of red in his voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, but like, I was overwhelmed, and tired, and then sick. I got on that plane, um, even though the doctor said my eardrum may burst, because I couldn’t go another day without seeing your face.”He cupped my jaw then and pressed his forehead to me. “We, baby,” he said in capitals letters, “are together. I only sleep with you and you only sleep with me! Ok?” He looked at me like he was convincing a jury against falsified evidence. “Ok, Melody can we be ok?” All the fight was going out of him. "Ok,” I agreed and he deflated against me. “But, H,” he sighed. “People who are together call

each other.”

“Ok, I’ll be better Melly, I’ll get better, ok?” he sighed and wrapped his arms around my waist so I was supporting more of his weight. “Can I please have my cuddles now?” He said against my lips but still not kissing me hello.

“No!” I shook my head, effectively rubbing our lips together. “No?” He pulled back to look at me. “Gotta pay the toll.” I tapped my lips. “Baby, I’m sick!” He half heartedly protested, pressing lips to mine and walking backwards to the bedroom. So was I, I thought, lovesick.

All The Love as always to my darling beta @nocontrolforlouis and to my readers and responders!!

Reblogs are love and spread the story, so if you like it, share it!

[piggy-peach]

They let us take pics and stuff for the first 3 songs which was super cool of them!!! (Except that my phone doesn't take great anything in that lighting.....) But wow, where to begin... I travelled 6 hours to see them and had gotten maybe 2 hours of sleep beforehand...decided to put my makeup on 14 hours before the actual concert (big mistake as it all came off during the concert between the gallons of sweat and my endless crying) and of course because of the photo op afterwards I missed the last ferry to go back home and had to sleep at the dock and wait for the one leaving at 5 am. (We'd already planned for that so it was chill.) But OHHH MY LAWD. They are just SO beautiful in person. I was maybe 8 rows away??? And they were just so wonderful and cute. And Cha Hakyeon...my bias...lawd have mercy...his DANCING. It's even more graceful and perfect when you see it with your own two eyes. Being a dancer, myself, I can seriously appreciate his talent. Yeah, he's dancing around to "hip hop"--but he's also floating across the stage like a fucking swan. His every move is carefully calculated, down to his fingers. But he also has so much fun up there. Like he knows how to GET IT. He belongs up there almost more than anyone else. He owns that stage. Ain't nobody gonna take it from him. Wow........I honestly didn't know what to expect. I was surpised at how small they were. Probably because I'm not used to seeing such small frames...they say Hakyeon is 5'8 but I have doubts...I'm 5'8 and there's no way he's as tall as me. No way. But aside from being small, they were gorgeous. Ken was so incredibly cute, as was Hyuk. Leo was beautiful as always. Hakyeon was a fucking god, and Ravi was adorable too. But Lee Hongbin............honestly I actually caught myself a couple times. "I'm a married woman," I remind myself as I stare down at him, sweat glistening on his skin. He's standing there quietly waiting for his turn to sing, LICKING AND BITING HIS LIPS, wiping his face with his palm in the most teasing, alluring way. Talk about bias wrecker ???? I was SHOOK. I had to remove my eyes before I burned up in my seat....lawd..... I had not expected anything, except to be blown away by their charm. (I was.) I also really didn't expect them to play a game with us for nearly a third of the show!!! Their variety personas came out, reminding me very much of the old VIXX TV I used to binge watch in high school. (The only thing that kept me going was that stupid show oml.) Hyuk decided to play MC, and they even gave him the 3D pink Hyuk sticker for his mic...the one from the original VIXX TV. I teared up when I saw it ngl. There was a board brought out with a bunch of suggestions from the fans, and Hyuk began to explain the rules of the game--IN ENGLISH--to us and to the members. "You pick one and you have to do it," he says loud and clear, his accent thick and utterly precious. "But if you pick one for yourself...it's too easy. So, instead, the person beside you will pick for you. They will pick something for you with kindess and love." He came up with that all by himself. We were all so blown away by his incredible English. It was clear that he had been practicing. He had been practicing for US!! I don't know about anyone else, but I was really touched. Lots of hilarious things occured. Ravi lost to Hakyeon in a staring contest; Hongbin was forced into doing Aegyo (and then proceeded to die afterwards.) Ken sang something from his musical with no mic and let me tell you..... He didn't even need one at all. He projected so well. We heard him loud and clear--but most of all, his voice when he sang was so incredibly beautiful. I mean, we already new that he could sing, but this was different. The tone, the vibrato, the runs, all of it. Not a single mistake. It was like a recording. He sang so confidently, too. It nearly brought me to tears. (Just kidding it did lmao) It was just a different style. A style that really, REALLY suited him. Hyuk was asked to dance to Chained Up 2x fast. He gladly obliged, and nailed it of course, because the beginning is easy with short, simple counts and he only did the first 16 or so of them. So Hakyeon--Darling Hakyeon, Sweet Hakyeon, Adoring Leader Hakyeon who Loves His Members So Much--suggests that he tries it 5x fast. "I want to make you suffer," he cackles evilly. The other members try to rush to Hyuk's defense, all yelling and clambering to get Hakyeon off of his wild train of thought--so fast that the translator can hardly keep up--but Hakyeon tells them all that it's too late and that the 5x fast version was already prepared. Fearless, Brave Hyuk steps up to the plate and awaits his fate...the song begins...and he just goes for it. He doesn't make any noticeable mistakes--hits all the counts, though he eventually gets past the easier part and soon his feet and hands are flying every which way and he starts to smile nervously as he tries to keep on pace. He eventually sinks to the ground from exhaustion, but he's already won. Hakyeon accepts defeat and we erupt into applause. He then gets up slowly and says to us in Korean, "That's it, you guys...I'm done. This will be my last concert. I'm getting too old for this now. It was really nice knowing you, thanks all. I love you." Hakyeon smirks from his spot in the middle. Leo was asked to sing "Whisper" as it had not yet been performed in Vancouver yet. No song was prepared, so Leo (after shyly begging Ravi to do it with him, insisting that it's their song) sang it accapella. Of course, not before being pushed to the side a little by Hakyeon, who didn't want to be blocked. You can't get in the way of a diva, boys. It's just common sense. After that, Leo was forced into spelling the member's names with his bellybutton. He vehemently rejected this at first, but Heartless MC Hyuk insisted him to and Leo just had no other choice. (Though in between each name he had to take a few moments to wheeze and cringe and whine about how weird it was. "Ahh, isanghae..." Over and over....) The banter and humor of those boys really made my night. The concert was wonderful, in spite of the few glitches at the beginning (mic feedback, translator not responding and leaving hakyeon hanging for two minutes which he was nOT happy about let me tell you) but it was so much fun. Near the end, they all ran offstage and left us screaming for five minutes straight in the dark...clearly if the concert had really been over, the lights would have come back on, so we knew it wasn't done yet...but we were just too impatient. We missed them! So we spent that five minutes chanting "V.I.X.X!" relentlessly, clapping and stomping our feet until they finally came out again--and performed Love Equation. I literally cried when they came back. It was a mix of "I knew you didnt abandon us" and "omg I haven't heard this song in such a long time". Then they did On and On which made me SO HAPPY as it was my favorite song by them for such a long time and pretty much the song that got me into them in the first place. And then they did Hyde--and at that point I was bawling (or pretty close to it) because it was just such a relief to know that they hadn't forgotten those good songs; the classics. The songs of my highschool years. It sounds cheesy, I know. I'm really sentimental okay... ;;;; The ending was incredible, and Ken stayed on the stage after they'd all walked off, sending us hearts and kisses, so long that Hakyeon had to come back out and drag him backstage. Ken is just such a sweet heart. The last and I think most important thing I want to share is the photo op. I say most important because this was my one and only chance (and very first!!) to be up close and really see them; really have their attention, and truly meet them as human beings rather than idols on a stage. We were so rushed through by the staff that I didn't even get to really SEE my bias at all, but I made sure to look at each one as I passed before I got to my seat, which was right in front of Leo. I smiled and waved really shyly at him and he smiled back and said hi in that soft voice of his...gah my heart just melted. Now as I mentioned before I had decided to put on my makeup at 5 am and it was now 9 pm. I'm not super great at makeup, I have incredibly oily skin, and my makeup just isnt super great on its own...I had also been wearing eyelashes, which had finally come off during the concert because of my excessive smiling and crying. So...I had to wipe off the eyeliner and try and look sort of alright for the picture. But I felt like I looked hideous without my makeup so I was terrified of meeting them. But to their credit, they smiled brilliantly at me regardless, so thank you VIXX for that lmao. Actually I caught Hyuk kinda peeking at me and when he saw I'd noticed him he gave me a grin. It made me feel better. It was so sweet. So incredibly short. But before I left I said goodbye to Leo again, because he was there, and gosh is he adorable (and SMALL. Like. He's gotta be smaller than Hakyeon.) and he smiled again at me and I felt even better. So I know I'm gonna come out looking all pudgy and weird and I'm gonna hate the picture but I'm still gonna keep it because it will remind me of the 4 seconds when Leo knew of my existence and smiled just for me. ❤❤ Sooo yeah. There's my experience. It was amazing and I'm so glad I went out and did it. It was one of my dreams, to meet VIXX-- and afterwards I felt so weird and like...empty in a way??? Because it had been fulfilled. But that's okay! All I have left now is to meet BTS and then I can die happily. 💞💞

[griffinsanddragons]

Keep on Swimming

She quite liked whales, but she didn’t want to be dragged and lured into the depths of her Mother’s end of the sea. Poor Hawke isn’t ready to be married. 

Leandra brushes her daughter's hair. #Filanders but mostly a story about a Mother and her Daughter.

Happy Fic Friday!

Her Mother never seemed to be the sentimental type— she adored her dresses, jewelry, and smartly worn shoes, but it wasn’t long before those things were discarded, forgotten, or simply lost behind much finer things. Still, Leandra owned that same silver hairbrush longer than Filia had even been alive—And it used to be so pretty.

But now, it seemed to have been forgotten as well, tucked behind ribbons, pins, and boxes of jewelry.

‘There’s power in these things,’ her mother once told her, sitting at the mirror as she brushed her long, beautiful hair: Her crowning glory. ‘Power in the things I’m teaching you—Do you understand Filia?’ And though she nodded before turning her attention to ‘the little ladies book of floral arranging’ she’d been gifted for her 9th birthday, she didn’t quite understand—not really.

As she grew older, taller, and further away from her Mother’s hip, Filia became proficient in sword fighting and power became more than just a word: it overflowed with life and meaning.

She had the power to protect her family, the power to fight, the power to decide someone’s fate; to take a life (break their bones and watch them bleed,) or let them free to live another day—and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

The power her Mother spoke of, however, had little to do with such things. Her ‘Lady Lessons,’ as Bethany called them, hadn’t made her feel anything except maybe taller (she grew fond of those cunning leather boots with little straps and short heels.)

‘By your age, I’d be wearing high heels and gold jewelry,’ Her Mother once said, pulling those unforgiving bristles through the tangles of her hair, ‘…You’d be arranged to marry the son of a Nobleman or even a Prince! Wouldn’t that have been so lovely?’

Filia didn’t have a proper answer for her then, she didn’t know any Nobleman or Princes, but now she could be certain: No—It wouldn’t have been lovely.

[Keep Reading]

She didn’t much care for the Noblemen and women of the city; they were selfish, scheming and vain. She couldn’t fathom why her Mother would be so eager to return to such a life of pettiness and rivalry.

And as she thumbed her fingers through the bristles of her Silver Hairbrush, nails catching on fallen strands of her mother’s graying hair, Filia could almost hear her voice, stern and disapproving in her ear.

Because she hadn’t found a Prince or the son of a Noble to marry, but instead found a partner who suited her perfectly, a partner who kissed her for the first time that morning.

The thought of which pulled a secret smile across her cheeks.

He said it would be a disaster, but the words seemed to melt or simply flutter away when he kissed her again and smiled. He promised to see her again that night—so long as the door was open to him.

And it was because she knew it would be open that Filia stood both nervous and giddy, thinking back on all the things she’d been taught as she stood before her Mother’s vanity—her hair damp and body dressed in nothing but a robe as the orange light of the setting sun gleamed like a halo behind her body.

She snuck into her Mother’s bedroom, pausing every few moments to ensure she wasn’t around. She was supposed to be brushing her hair, but Instead, it sat damp and forgotten against her shoulders, curling out into a crown of coils and screws.

Perhaps she’d been wrong before—this was both thrilling and terrifying (yet she still felt no more powerful than she had this morning.)

Nevertheless, Filia felt as though she were floating on the calm, even waves of an open sea.

Beside a pink tinted bottle of flowery perfume sat a comb and a jar of honey-colored oil: liquid gold, she referred to it as. It was a simple, yet expensive pleasure and one of the only things both she and her Mother could agree to enjoy.

She unscrewed the lid, dipped her fingers inside, and combed it through her hair, following the path her Mother’s brush made with a delighted hum.

She couldn’t wait to see him again. The simple thought of waiting for tonight sent her writhing in melodramatic agony.

“Filia?” She jumped at the sound of her name, swirling around and setting down the brush so fast the other trinkets rattled. “What are you doing?” Her Mother sounded more amused than anything else as she stood in the passage of the doorway.

“I just needed a brush—mine is too soft so it doesn’t…” She couldn’t tell her Mother the truth, that she had a man coming to see her—even if that man was just Anders— as these were hardly the actions of the dignified lady her Mother wanted her to be.

And suddenly, she was no longer floating—but rather slipping down beneath the endless waves of a troubled sea.

‘There’s so much I wanted you to see,’ Filia recalled her saying as they moved the last of their things into the estate. ‘And now I can show you! Teach you everything, all that I couldn’t before.’ And she looked so happy, so excited, that Filia didn’t dare speak.

Because she didn’t mind dressing up, staring at art, or eating fancy cheese—but she didn’t need those things to be happy.

All Filia wanted was for her Mother to be happy.

“Are you going somewhere, at this hour?”

“No.” She said because it wasn’t a lie, “I just needed to brush my hair.” Still, Leandra made a noise that sounded like a mix of laughter and disbelief, and in her eyes was the same look of suspicion she’d conjure when Filia came home late at night.

And she wondered if her Mother somehow knew—if she somehow acquired the ability to read minds because Leandra wore that same stern look across her face whenever her daughter began a sentence with ‘My friend Anders,’ as though she somehow knew what had been blossoming between them.

Would it be so bad if she did know? Filia asked herself, still standing awkwardly beneath her Mother’s gaze. She’d fallen for her own dashing apostate, after all, and certainly couldn’t judge her choices or taste in romantic partners.

Despite this Filia knew that her Mother could, and would, judge her tastes. Because, from the moment of her birth, Leandra wanted something different for her daughter; a high society life—a life Anders could never provide.

“Let me,” She offered, walking up to her side. “I’ve wanted to fix your hair for so long now, ever since you began to wear it long again—it suits you.” Without even waiting for her confirmation or consent, Leandra took the brush and directed Filia to sit.

She tried to protest, knowing her Mother would take too long and pull too hard on her tender scalp, but Leandra remained stern. And when Filia finally did relent, her Mother snapped her head toward the mirror and dug the stiff bristles through her hair. “That hurts!” She whined, scrunching up her face indignantly. But her mother had selective hearing and often filtered out the words she didn’t want to hear her daughter speak.

“You can wear it like this next time there’s a party and charm every fellow there.” Her Mother’s soft hands pushed down against the warm flushed skin of Filia’s neck. Though she did not reply, Leandra must have sensed her daughter rolling her eyes because she continued on persistently:

“Isn’t it time you thought about marrying? You have such a lovely face—you can find yourself a fine match with a good man.”

She felt the need to bite back her tongue, to remain quiet as she sunk deeper into the sea.

“I don’t have anything in common with those people.”

“But you do:  Amell blood runs through you the same as it does me. Your friend Aveline was married.”

“Aveline’s old,” she joked, tilting her head upward to see what it was her Mother was doing, only for her neck to be craned downward once again.

“She isn’t much older than you are. Haven’t…Haven’t you ever wanted to see the world? To live the best life? The right husband can do that for you. He can take you to see the theater in Orlais, the pyramids of Nevarra, and all sorts of wonderful things. With the right husband and enough coin—you could sail anywhere you pleased.”

Despite her more poetic of thoughts, Filia never cared much for the ocean, and absolutely hated the sea—there was no telling what manner of beasts lurked beneath the water. Once, she read about a large, monstrous creature with 8 long tentacles that wrapped around its prey, holding them still as it ate them alive.

Even the mightiest of ocean dwellers could be scarred by its sharp hooks or hidden beak; and though it’s said to soar through the water like an intelligent bird with mighty wings, Filia thought that creature was terrifying.

She always preferred the quiet, mysterious power of the great whale, but even they weren’t safe from that creature’s reach—that is, if the sailors and their old wives tales could be believed.  (After all, she was certain that creature more often found itself in the whale’s giant belly.)

Nevertheless, she sometimes felt like the Whale: powerful, strong, and great, yet not immune to her Mother’s hooked reach.

“I have enough coin to do that on my own. I’m not interested in getting married—not yet anyway.” She added as her plan to meet with Anders came to mind. It was far too soon to know if a marriage between them could be a possibility.

Regardless, any smile her Mother may have held in her voice fell and slipped away.

“Yes, I suppose you aren’t. You’d rather go out to fight criminals until you drop dead in the street. Is that what you want? For me to lose you too?” The hooked arm of her Mother’s disappointment wrapped tightly around her throat, snatching the air from her lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

“I’ve only been helping the guard,” And though that wasn’t a lie—she did help the guard occasionally—Filia and her Mother both knew that it wasn’t the only thing. Still, she didn’t have the heart to tell her what she’d really been up to: fighting Templars, Demons, and the occasional Dragon and Bloodmage.

“I-I know you worry, Mother, but I’ve been training more with Aveline. I’m good at this, so-”

“But you don’t need to do it anymore!” She put down the brush with more force than necessary and the whole vanity began to shake. “You don’t need to fight.” Her voice dropped down to a whisper, like a calm amidst the rain. “Maker knows you shouldn’t have had to before. I shouldn’t have let you. I should have kept you safe—There’s a reason I wanted this life for you, Filia. You risked too much going down to those Deep Roads, don’t you think you’ve had enough? You’re capable of so much, of so much more and you deserve the best—that’s what I want for you now. After everything…” She slid a pin, and then a ribbon into her hair.

But something inside her shuttered then so she jerked away from her Mother’s hand.  ‘No!’ she wanted to scream but kept her lips pressed together tightly.

She didn’t want to be dragged and lured into the depths of her Mother’s end of the sea, a place she didn’t know or like or even cared to understand. She’d go to the balls, the concerts, and the parties—but Filia could never change for her, she wanted to be free—if only in this.

And as she turned her head up to look her Mother in the eye through the mirror, Filia thought she saw a hint of guilt in Leandra’s tired gaze. It was only after a moment she noticed her hair.

It was perfect—pinned up into a thick, charming braid that rung her head like a halo, a red ribbon strung through the loops like a cascading wave.

And that’s when Filia realized: her Mother hadn’t turned her into a Lady, not exactly, she’d turned her into the girl she used to be; the one who loved balls and dresses and lace— the girl her daughter could have been had she not run away with her dashing apostate.

Did her Mother regret the life she’d given her? Regret running away? It hadn’t been the life she expected, but they were comfortable, warm, and happy.

Filia wasn’t sure if she’d ever find the answer to that as she lowered her head to look away.

She was strong, and feared, and powerful—she could do much more than her Mother was willing to believe but Filia didn’t have the heart to keep fighting.

“…I know.” She told her, and the resignation weighed her down like the crushing force of the sea—yet she knew she’d find a way to keep swimming.

Her mother may not understand her, but she only wanted the best—to protect her now with dresses and social grace so that she may spend the rest of her life in quiet luxury, safe behind these walls with no need to put on her armor and fight.

Would she have been happy had she grown up in a Hightown Estate? Could she have lived her life without having known Aveline? Isabela? Merrill? Varric? Fenris? Anders? The thought made her heart wrench and sink deep. (She very likely would have met Sebastian, however. He was, after all, a Prince around the same age as she.)

She could hardly imagine it now: A life with carefully chosen friends, with a carefully chosen husband, with carefully bred children, with carefully chosen traits.

And if she did meet a man like Anders? Would she have fallen for him? Even considered becoming his friend? Or would she have disregarded him completely?

Questions formed and formed and formed in her mind and for a long time, the only noise between them was the sound of the brush combing through the tips of her hair.

“…There you are.” Leandra smiled, sliding in the final pin. “You’re so lovely.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“You’re welcome.” The scent of her perfume lingered like a ghost as her Mother walked away.

But with the sun now completely set with no traces in the sky, Filia had no time to dwell or waste time.

She took her Mother’s brush and returned to her bedroom swiftly, closing the door behind. And as she sat before her own mirror, she pulled the pins and ribbon from her hair—it would never fit into her helmet this way and if the night went as well as she fantasized, the style wouldn’t last anyway.

She’d find a way to work this out tomorrow. Tonight, however, she’d swim free.

click here for the filanders kissing outtake

[talkingwithburritospodcast]

Wonder Woman: Dont' Put Swords Down Dresses - TWB

Save Streaming Data Is Wonder Woman as much a triumph for women within the Hollywood industry is it just a much-needed victory for Warner Bros. and the DCEU universe? Unlike the movies from its cinematic predecessors, Wonder Woman opened the weekend to prescreening praise and that highly sought after Rotten Tomatoes score. With so much animosity over the validity of critics these days and the effect they have on a film's opening at the box office, one can indeed argue that good word of mouth can and will influence how a film is received by potential ticket buyers. Failures of titles like Suicide Squad and Batman v Superman placed a stigma on all future releases within this franchise, but is it fair to judge one movie based on the success of a franchise? As much bad wrap as those films received, they have a good return on investment, and isn't that ultimately consider a success? As the word of the critic word really that important, and if so are sites like Rotten Tomatoes inadvertently controlling the industry by proxy?  

Before She Was Wonder Woman, She Was Diana

I found myself at odds with wanting to like this movie as much as everyone else LOVED this movie. I mean, it got a 94% percent on Rotten Tomatoes so I should like it right… right? That’s the odd nature of criticism and human behavior. It’s our nature to not want to be at odds with the masses-- to just accept whatever is popular instead of forming our own opinion or being truthful to our own opinion. A movie gets a horrible rating and automatically it's cemented in your mind that the aforementioned movie is a film you would rather not spend money to go and see. Access to such information has taken the risk out of watching movies. Whether you hate or love a movie, isn’t it more of the experience we seek to obtain? Or is it that we would rather save our money than take a chance on a film that may disappoint us? I was excited by the idea that Wonder Woman would be the best movie of the summer — even better than Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2. That last scene in B vs V left me wanting more of the Amazonian warrior who faced off with Doomsday as Superman moped and Batman hid. However, it just didn’t rock my world as it apparently rocked for other people. All those positive reviews and movie was just okay. Sorry, status quo. When asked, “So what did you think?” I bit my tongue a little, I admit. Why? Because I believed my feelings towards this movie were maybe too subjective to really debate whether or not this iteration of Wonder Woman met my criteria as the Wonder Woman film I wanted to watch. Bre, a contributor to If three by space and friend, shared the same sentiment. Finally!, Someone else who thought the movie was meh. I’m usually very candid about my reactions towards a film, never really holding my tongue. I even waited to hear Bre's reaction before I could truthfully respond to her about whether I liked the movie. To my surprise, she too did not share in the hoopla that is Wonder Woman Praise Mania. Instead of disseminating my negative thoughts onto you. I wanted to understand why it is that I did not share the same sentiment about this take on the iconic 1/3 of the Superhero Trinity. Wonder Woman isn’t exactly an innovative film, especially within this overly saturated market of comic book inspired movies. Sure, it’s the first movie helmed by a female director featuring a female comic book character to gross over $100 million dollars. The accomplishment should be heralded as much as celebrated by every director and actor in the industry. However, we can’t focus on the success of this film as a solitary achievement that will change the nature of the film culture. The truth remains that this is just one film about a superhero that took many years to make primarily because studios didn’t want to take a risk. Only after her appearance in B vs S were they finally convinced that they could make money off of this character. Within the current narrative of the DC Universe movie, a stand-alone Wonder Woman film is just a life preserver floating atop an empty ocean. It doesn’t fit within the current narrative which began with Superman and continued into B vs S and should have just gone on with The Justice League. Opposite of Marvel, they would have to introduce the character after the debut of the ensemble team. However, WW was riding a wave of excitement and it was a smart business move to make a standalone film now instead of later when the fervor subsides. So, stop with the praise that this is a home run for female artists in the film industry. The numbers say it all and as of 2016, women comprised just 7 percent of all directors working on the top 250 domestic grossing films. Wonder Woman was poised to do well at the box office. Maybe not 100 million opening well but as with all the movies before it, Jenkins would have eventually obtained this title of a person who made a movie for a studio that grossed a lot of money. Consider the Fate of the Furious as a perfect example: There was this brief celebration of F. Gary Gray becoming the first black $1billion director. Kudos goes to the work he put in to make the film what it became but his efforts weren’t all that pushed this film to its incumbent success. The Furious franchise is eight films in and continues to perform no matter who is in the director's chair. Wonder Woman will eventually make a bazillion dollars but let’s not focus on solely on numbers, that’s studio mumbo jumbo, but rather the time and effort and vision of Patty Jenkins who never directed an action movie and her muse Gal Gadot who had some big red boots to fill; they deserve more respect for their efforts than an entrance into the all boys 100 million dollar club. Much of what other people liked about the movie or continue to blab on about, I did not particularly find impressive enough to consider an indifference to mainstream movie fandom. And as I tried to reason with myself about the supposed greatness of this film, I realized that it was all haberdashery; dressing up my opinion of the film to appeal to the overall consensus.

Wonder Woman: The Good, The Bad, The Cheesy

Wonder Woman wasn’t that great of a movie, however, I was interested in why I do not hold the same opinions as others. So, I read a few reviews and talked with a few people who also watched the movie and pulled from those resources and conversations good and bad aspects of the film that might help me form a different opinion of Wonder Woman on a second viewing. I am a firm believer that it takes more than one viewing to fully appreciate a film and with that, I am willing to sway my own opinion based on further insight into why people like this movie so much. Here, I debate a view arguments and positives about the film that struck as the more important conversational starters. DC Enters the Light Yes, Wonder Woman had endearing flirtatiousness with her naiveté fish out of water story beat. The scene on the boat with her and Trevor talking about sex was kinda funny until you listen to the dialog and realize Trevor the gentleman is really just a horny man dog. I didn’t necessarily need them to showcase their sexual attraction so openly. Diana had a mission and her mission was to destroy Ares. This flirty school girl/ guy routine was only a way to exploit Diana’s innocence for a joke. There was this wardrobe changing scene that was funny and more along the joke spectrum I consider effective enough to represent Diana’s adverse emersion into regular society. Using common stereotypes and customs that defined women during the 1930’s and 1940’s (and today) was a fun way to show not only Diana’s ignorance but strongly rooted Amazonian female roots and female empowerment. Female Empowerment Gadot handled herself quite impressively in the scenes where the omnipresence of men conflicted with her beliefs, and it was those vulnerable moments that identified with Diana’s key character trait; empathy. Diana Meet Steve: The Cheesy Rom-Com Y’know what’s sexier than a sex scene? Not having a sex scene. I mean c’mon, Diana just met Trevor and sure, in the heat of battle things can get a little hot and heavy but why does it have to end with her beckoning Trevor with a longing gaze as he closes the bedroom door. I would think any woman involved with this script would be like: "What? No… eww/" But I guess when the director renounces cheesy as a word, you get a scene like that. It’s like when Kevin and Winnie’s first kiss, and yes this is a Wonder Years analogy but it applies to all romantic comedies where two people in love want to be together but extenuating circumstances keep them apart. Ex. Felicity and Scott Speedman, Diane and Sam, Buffy and Angel. With all those examples, those couples had to endure many setbacks before they became a couple. The kiss between Winnie and Kevin only happens after Winnie disses him over and over again. The longing builds up the tension for the final moment or season ending episode when Kevin finds Winnie in a clearing sitting on a rock gazing off into nowhere. He drapes his jacket over Winne’s shoulders and holds her close with one arm around her shoulders. Slowly she’s drawn to him and their lips meet for that first kiss as When a Man Loves a Woman plays over the soundtrack. Picture the final moment of Wonder Woman with such a longing looming over Diana and Steve. One kiss and boom that’s all the sex those two needed — their relationship would transcend into something more, and that’s love, that’s a great scene. [x_blockquote cite="Rick, Casablanca 1942" type="center"]Here’s looking at you kid. [/x_blockquote] It’s not that the supposed sex scene in Wonder Woman was cheesy, it just wasn’t necessary. Empathy and strength in the presence of adversity. The Origin Story Mashup: What works best towards the Wonder Woman narrative is all about how much you know.

Diana is a princess, check.

She was molded from clay, check.

Zeus is her father, check.

Trevor crashes onto the island of Thermasyoiuoiu, check.

Diana fights in disguise to win an opportunity to join Trevor on a mission to the US, not checked.

Diana loves Trevor, check.

Wonder Woman didn’t come to save mankind, Diana was in love. The hero thing came after and the movie attempts to mold these ideas together to sculpt an imperfect god-like figure who could as easily destroy man and succumb to him just the same. George Perez created the Ares narrative in the first issue of the 1986 reboot of the series in which Wonder Woman doesn’t leave the island to chase after Steve Trevor but she leaves to fight Ares. As with all comic book movies, they usually pick and choose which storylines work the best for their project then find a way to tell a version of a story that appeals to the premise of selling tickets. Henceforth, why the plots of X-men, Suicide Squad, Spider-man 3, fail to work as a fully developed story ideas. Writers are usually asked to put too much into a two-hour movie and when doing so they add too much or leaving out a very crucial parts to a storyline that spanned my ten to twenty issues. No Man’s Land Arguably the best scene in the movie almost did not make it into the film. Here’s Patty Jenkins: It’s my favorite scene in the movie and it’s the most important scene in the movie. It’s also the scene that made the least sense to other people going in, which is why it’s a wonderful victory for me. I think that in superhero movies, they fight other people, they fight villains. So when I started to really hunker in on the significance of No Man’s Land, there were a couple people who were deeply confused, wondering, like, ‘Well, what is she going to do? How many bullets can she fight?’ And I kept saying, ‘It’s not about that. This is a different scene than that. This is a scene about her becoming Wonder Woman.’ I agree with her every word. When thinking subjectively about why something does or does not work we tend to not take into consideration the art of creating a moment like this. It’s not about how much sense it makes -- we all know there was no mystic Amazon warrior fighting battles in WWI. The No Man’s Land scene was more about the atrocities of war and sanctimony of battle. Diana would conquer the unconquerable, a stretch of land littered with hundreds of dead soldiers for the morally good, and not just to kill an enemy but to save the people. This particular fight was bigger than even Ares himself as in that moment Diana wore her heart outside of her chest fighting for the greater good and not the purpose of war.

[x_feature_headline type="left" level="h1" looks_like="h1" icon="cutlery"]Scoop Du Jour[/x_feature_headline] 

One of the better stories about Wonder Woman stems from the origins of the comic book character and her creator Dr. William H. Marston. Jill Lepore, the author of the book The Secret History of Wonder Woman wrote an article for The Smithsonian which describes the scandalous beginnings of Wonder Woman and DC Comics. Marston was a jack of all trades, a psychologist, scientist, and lawyer who started his work with DC Comics in 1941. As a move to help curtail the onslaught of criticism from the media and watchdog groups, Maxwell Charles Gaines creator of DC Comics, took to an idea from Marston to create a female character who among the likes of Superman and Batman would help to soften the violence and sexual nature of the current pulp comic narrative. Little did Gaines know that Wonder Woman would bring him more attention than he so desired. The debut of the Diana from the mystic Amazonian Paradise Island was immediately met with overall disdain. The number one complaint: They didn’t like the way she was dressed. Too much skin, they shouted as they burned images of Wonder Woman clothed in nothing but a tight red top, underwear, a lasso, and boots. Burn the witch! Okay, it’s wasn’t that dramatic but isn’t the same type of anger expressed whenever a woman come outs against the status quo? Past the cover and onto page one clothing just the tip of the anger-berg. Images of bondage and not-so-subtle feminist messaging throughout the comic caused for a plea that the comic be remove from the shelves and restricted from children! Such vile content would warp the minds of the adolescence and cause them to commit horrible acts of debauchery in the future. Luckily Gaines, a physiologist, could defend Wonder Woman in reality as she defended herself on the page, but it was not easy. In this article, Lepore touches upon Marston and his relationship with his wife Elizabeth Holloway, and live in love affair, Olive Byrne. Their love story had nothing to do with Wonder Woman per say. The trio would manage to keep their polyamorous living situation a secret going so far as to introduce Byrne as a widowed cousin who needed a place to stay.  Labels and stereotypes are used to keep people shackled to an idea of conformity, so instead of wearing a ring, Olive Byrne wore two bracelets. Marston, Byrne, and Holloway all had ties to the feminist Suffrage movement and when you consider this history, Wonder Woman the character — her meaning— takes a different shape as she may have been a character birthed from idea but she molded into a model of female empowerment that exemplifies struggle, strength, and overall empathy towards mankind. If you watched the movie, and happen to see the trailer, Professor M; that is this story made into film starring Luke Evans. Check it out. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tv-GrUKgRGk

This, That, and Other News

Teens rescued after spending three days in the catacombs beneath France. Sounds like a movie right? As Above, So Below is a found footage movie released back in 2014 about a couple of cataphiles who get lost in the maze that of the freaky underground tombs of Paris, France. http://www.cnn.com/2017/06/15/europe/paris-catacombs-rescue/?iid=ob_lockedrail_bottommedium Weekly Flavor Text: “Great girdle of Aphrodite!” she cries at one point. “Am I tired of being tied up!” Links: Better yet, by the book. https://www.amazon.com/The-Secret-History-Wonder-Woman/dp/0385354045/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1592408702&linkCode=as2&tag=smithsonianco-20&linkId=K2QLHC6725SQQ3QO Read more: http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/origin-story-wonder-woman-180952710/#5ohitvsa3uyQAlIG.99 https://filmschoolrejects.com/wonder-woman-review/ https://filmschoolrejects.com/wonder-woman-champion-empathy/ https://www.wired.com/2017/06/wonder-woman-origin-story/ http://io9.gizmodo.com/the-wonder-woman-movie-understands-why-superheroes-exis-1795826527 http://www.rollingstone.com/movies/news/how-wonder-woman-tackles-superhero-movies-greatest-foe-sexism-w485184 http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/heat-vision/wonder-woman-is-a-milestone-but-shouldnt-be-1010023  

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